


My Chastity

by HotPotIdiot



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Connor, Comfort, Confessions (finally), Connor being babied too much, Connor having thoughts of viscous, Connor is baby, Dominant Nines, Everyone has self doubt to some extent in this, Fear, Fluff, Gavin is decent, Hand Jobs, Hand holding to the max, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Loneliness, M/M, Masturbation, Neediness, Nines finally figures out what makes Connor tick- wink, Nines is the most put togther, Self Isolation, Self destruction, Sensual interfacing, Slow Burn, Snuggling, Subspace, Top Hank, Top Nines, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Valentine’s Day, Violence, cliche as HECK, demeaning sex to escape his crushing loneliness, submissive Connor, they’re all idiots, wallowing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 67,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotPotIdiot/pseuds/HotPotIdiot
Summary: Connor doesn’t want to be left alone with himself. The place he wants to be is crowded on one side by a force that‘s trying to push him out, and another that wouldn’t notice if he were actually gone.He honestly believes those are just the facts, and that’s exactly why he’s his own worst enemy.———Tags will change. I’ll put warnings on the top of each page. This is a thread from my twitter I’ve reworded a bit. Also the italics I had on here vanished, because they hate me.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson/Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson/Upgraded Connor | RK900
Comments: 58
Kudos: 177





	1. Reflecting

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings or triggers: Connor feels like he isn’t good enough. There’s serious self-destruction here and mentions of violent sex.

While he doesn’t know how it amounted to this, Connor remembers how it all started.

////////////://::::  
There‘s the appeal of Nines’ model- his efficiency and build. The fact that he’s an inch taller and sculpted with a thicker waist. It tapers down, not that Connor’s been looking too hard. But, it’s unlike his own, which makes a soft slope from his ribs to his hips. He looks less muscled there than Nines does, too, though it’s subtle.

Then there’s his infamous stoicism. It should be a turn off, but all it does is draw Connor in while unsettling others. Most people wouldn’t notice every difference between them, excluding that extra inch Nines is stacking. There’s a shroud of mystery which Nines cloaks himself in that only few either have the equipment to look past, such as Connor, an android, or the privilege to be shown. Like Nines’ partner- his romantic partner.

Connor has made note of every detail that stands between them, forced to give more thought to the peculiar way each feature makes him feel. ‘Smaller’ is the most prevalent, and he feels it more often than he’d like to.Not in a particularly bad way, though.

It was hard to explain, Connor just felt like he was so much...‘less’ comparatively.

At the worst of times, it humiliated him to be so inadequate. At the best, that familiar curl of shame in his belly unfurled and made him burn in an absolutely delicious way. Smaller, indeed.

He liked it.

The plus side at least was that it made it easier to keep things physical- to avoid scripting more between them then there could ever be and avoid waddling in his loneliness. Connor can keep his interests purely sexual, with a taste for something rougher. When he imagines Nines as  
this opposing, unfeeling thing, he doesn’t feel like he’s missing out on.... on dates, and pet names, and something that isn’t as flimsy as a one night stand with a hand capable of crushing steel wrapped around his neck.

Not that those things are made anymore tangible. It was all fantasy, a bunch of indulgent sin.

Fantasies about being bent in half and pushed into hoards of pillows, face first. Nines’ limitless stamina, his almost endless reserves, helping him to thoroughly plow Connor as hazardously as he liked. Connor wants to taste that power. He wants that cock he knows to be a good bit thicker than average in his mouth- yes, he definitely knows about that.

He wants Nines to push himself down his throat and cum so much, it leaks out the cracks in his chassis. Impossible as that is, Connor craves. He imagines Nines’ cum filling him up and warming his wires, making him dizzy, and cozy, and heavy. Then he says these things to him- these awful, dirty things. About how little Connor’s pump looks under his hand. How easily he could pull it out and make him crawl for it, beg for it. Beg Nines not to let him die. How his hips are softer than Nines’ and so much easier to grab- that Connor isn’t good for much else than fucking, it seems.

Connor’s cock twitches to his horror. Right there in the middle of the break room where anyone could see.

‘Not at work.’ He thinks. He can’t do this at work. It’s so unprofessional.

What would his successor say?

He looks out to where Nines is sitting at Gavin’s desk and refusing to give up his seat. What Connor can hear of it, he’s droning on about how Gavin needs to ‘put in some legwork’, and stop waiting for ‘the android’ to do all his shit for him. It’s not the first time he’s seen Nines taunt him for it.

He’s just so cool- not just his eyes. It’s the way he handles the stress, the way he handles gunfire, and hysterical assholes like Gavin screaming at his back, and others threatening to assault him. Usually for no more reason than for what he is. Connor gets that, Nines is about as machine as it comes. But it never bothers the bigger man what people say about him.

Connor remembers how easily he lost his patience when Hank refused to work with him at first. How quickly the thought of upturning his drink over the bar came to mind when he flipped him off. ‘Thinking’ was infinitely different than ‘doing’, of course. Obviously when it came down to it, thoughts like that were intrusive, but normal, and happened to the best of us. His reason for doing them was a little different now, though, but not entirely. Flipping Hank’s drink would have been done to get a rise out of him, to show him that Connor could play ‘asshole’, too. The machine in him was only looking to find a route that would elicit a response and acquire some results. He doubted Hank would have been very compliant had he chosen to actually do such a thing, and that was why he hadn’t. As things progressed, as Connor progressed, his outlook on most things changed as much as his patience soon did. Now when he wanted to chuck Hank’s car keys straight into a lake, it was because he was pissed Hank was about to sit his ass in a driver’s seat drunk- not because he was eager to begin a dead end mission.

That’s all normal- losing one’s cool, becoming a bit emotional.

But, Nines has never even spared a thought like that driven by such emotion before. He’s never lost his cool- maybe his manners, but that was a choice. His bluntness was his personality, not a reaction. Nines never bends or breaks. He never riles like Connor, or Gavin, or Hank-

Hank.

What Connor hates more than anything about Nines, is how easy it is for him to take.

If he wants Hank’s attention, he’ll just take it. None of this wallowing shy shit that Connor can’t seem to pull himself out of.

It drives him crazy and, even worse, it scares him to death. He and Nines’ are on better terms, now- there isn’t this constant need to outdo one another and keep relevance in the department. They both bring expert detective work to the table and have learned to work off what the other one seems to be lacking.  
Nines’ horrid people skills, for example. Connor doesn’t want to fuck things up with him, now. But, as far as the Lieutenant goes, his best friend, Connor is plain terrified of crossing that line. He imagines with all the heavy flirting and giddy smiles they’ve been exchanging  
lately, he could do that pretty fast.

‘Romance before bromance’.

It scares him to think how easily he could lose Hank to him. To his successor... the ‘better Connor’.

So, he keeps his mouth shut and pretends to be happy for them, hoping he’ll mean it by the time they ever go public with this thing.

Connor looks away from them as Gavin begins rocking the metal giant in his chair, trying to remove him. It fails, of course, and Nines continues shaming him.

Connor’s fingers flex, threatening to crush the fragile piece of card he has hidden between them. He focuses on Gavin’s voice cursing up a storm and turns to stare at his own desk. There was Hank, watching someone restore and polish an old rusted kitchen knife on his phone. He’d been avoiding doing work all morning, ever since his spat with Fowler. Connor had expected his minor insubordination as a response, ever the rebel.

Of course, that didn’t make now the most opportune time for Connor to do this. No time was probably the most opportune, but, foolishly, Connor hoped with the added stress he’d be less interested in what Connor was about to do, and forget it sooner. He’d need him to when this inevitably went south. The likelihood of it working was much higher in his preconstruction of it than in reality.

Deviancy had tampered with his logistics a bit and made him something of a ‘dreamer’ at times- the most  
inconvenient times. The android considered simply not giving the thing to Hank, but was surprised to find how unfavorable that idea actually was.

He’d learned that with all these new feelings, these new freedoms and exciting things to explore, that he very much wanted to do this. He wanted to include some of the traditions of this holiday into their lives, as he was finding himself quite infatuated with it.

Who could blame him? It was a time to recognize and appreciate the ones you care most for, and Hank was... Well, he was at the top of that list.

Hank was his greatest friend, and his rock when Connor needed him. He was anxious to admit that that was more often than a newly developing deviant ‘robot’ would like. Sometimes he worried he was becoming a nuisance while asking Hank to help him find his footing. But, no matter what or how stupid the issue was, Hank was there for Connor- practically since the first step. He wouldn’t be very honest with himself if he denied how Hank once had a strong hand in pulling the fine threads of his deviancy.

So, Connor wanted to do this more than he wanted to avoid Hank’s weird stares or chastising- Connor knew this part of the holiday could be perceived as a bit childish.

Even so, he liked it. He wanted to do something for his friend that actually meant something to him more than he wanted to hide away from it.

Connor swallowed his pride and began to walk with his shoulders straight, eyes ahead, and jaw set.

Just this once, he could do this. It’d be over soon, and it would have meant a lot to him once he‘d done it.

He just had to remind himself that he wanted this more than he feared the rejection.

It wasn’t anything ‘serious’, anyway. If he avoided doing this, he’d be admitting that it was, and Connor couldn’t have that.

Hank was his friend. Just his best, most cherished, most trusted friend, who he was ecstatic to spend every waking second with whenever possible. But, just a friend.

He kept a folder he was using to cover the card at his waist perfectly straight, so that Hank wouldn’t see whatever was beneath it. Assuming Hank ever went looking below his waist, which of course he didn’t. He definitely, obviously didn’t, and Connor didn’t know why he even entertained that thought. It must be his nerves.

He tried to steady himself as he drew closer, only stopping once his knees hit the side of Hank’s desk- making sure they had as little space between them as possible. He hoped it would keep him from attracting an audience and maybe get this over with sooner- before he made himself look like an utter fool.

The fact that that was not a guarantee only actually stressed how bad an idea this really was.

“I have something for you, Lieutenant...” Connor said coolly.

“That the case Jeff was talkin’ about? Just sit it on my desk.” Hank barely turned away from his phone while Connor stood there, joints locking.

The moment of truth was suddenly too perilous a path to go tramping down, and Connor froze.

He miscalculated.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t give Hank this.... _this_.

Were people staring?

He doesn’t think he can get away with setting the file down and walking away without flashing the shimmery pink thing in his hands- not while he’s this close. Hank will see it, and he’ll ask questions.  
Crushing it in his fist in one swift motion seems to be the best option.

“What’s that?”

Connor resists the urge to hunch in on himself. He has never experienced feelings of embarrassment. The closest he’s come is a cosmic sort of guilt for allowing Cyberlife to play him like a chess piece for so long, and that was closer to shame. He did most everything with an air of confidence, even though deviancy entitled a lot more opportunities to make mistakes than before. Hank told him after the first few mishaps that fucking up was kind of part of all this, part of being human.  
More importantly, that it was ok to fuck up. Of course, it was easier to say such a thing than it was to actually accept when it happened. Failure burned, but Connor escaped most of the hang-ups and limitations it put on people. He didn’t often dwell on his mistakes and strived to  
try and learn from them.

That was all nice and well, until _now_ , when he’d just realized about a year into deviancy that he’d never truly been faced with a real threat before. Nothing of this magnitude- not even his crippling fear of heights forcing him to back out of a ladder only six steps in was as humiliating as this was.

Suddenly, the thought of giving Hank this token was equally the most terrifying and embarrassing thing he’d ever put himself through, and he wished he hadn’t let his emotions guide him into this situation.

Wishes, why’s, and what if’s- that’s how he’d gotten here in the first place.

“Connor?”

The android turned his head away and blinked.

“Connor? You ok?”  
Hank set his phone down and gave Connor his full attention. He could see the moment his resolve practically cracked and split to pieces.

Connor stood there warring with himself. He was determined to keep whatever this thing was a secret, even though Hank was painfully aware of its existence now. The android could already feel his defeat, as there was no way he was going to come out of this without looking like the total jackass Hank thought he was half the time.

He set the file down on Hank’s desk, stifling the heat of being outed like this which threatened to burn him. He made a show of looking at the scrap in his hand as uninterestedly as possible. Like it’d just materialized in his hand, and he hadn’t been the one to bring it here himself.

Hank watched him curiously, as Connor flashed him the Valentines card.

“Mia gave it to me in the break room.” He said, throwing out the most thoughtless  
excuse his overstressed processors could produce. Hank may have been glued to his phone most of the morning, with theoretically no way of proving that otherwise-

But the fact that Mia worked in dispatch on the other floor was an issue. Also that he could see _his name_ scrawled atop the little card in black ink for the second Connor flashed it.

He cut his eyes up at the android, who looked ready to crumble under the weight of his own facade any minute. Connor knew perfectly well Hank had seen his name on it, which left him with only one option. He was just going to lie about it. Just flat out lie and dare Hank to call him out.

How extremely unlike him that’d be... Things would just have to be uncomfortable between them for a little while after, and _that_ was what happened when you unplugged your brain and let your feelings do your thinking for you.  
Well, he wouldn’t make that mistake, again.

“I’m sorry to inform you that I’ll have to cancel our plans to watch our program this weekend.” Connor said, cringing at himself for reverting back to his choppy, awkward way of speaking. He sounded like he’d just walked off the assembly line.  
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I know it’s sudden.”

Though, it shouldn’t matter. With Valentine’s Day coming up, Hank would probably have something to do with Nines, anyway.

The thought made Connor’s stomach knot. It wasn’t pleasant like the way the ‘butterflies’ tickled his insides  
whenever Hank told him he had done a ‘good job’. It made his ‘guts’ feel cold and tight.

Connor opened his jacket and slid the card into a pocket. No matter what came next, he was not intent to have a discussion about this, even with Hank now fully aware of the situation.

Which was: Connor had wanted to give him a Valentine’s card, and then lied about it.

How far could someone fall?

He’d never had this kind of strain put on their relationship before, and it was absolute torture. Just when things were going so smoothly for them and they’d made a routine, Connor was blowing his chances of happiness out of the water.

When he looked up, Connor was surprised by what he found. He didn’t know how Hank could still be looking at him like that- with this oddly gentle smile, and an almost reverent look in his eye as he watched Connor fumble. Like his dumb blabbering was somehow endearing.

Finally, Hank gave him a thoughtful look and nodded, dismissing the whole thing.  
“Yeah. That’s ok. You’re not missing anything.”

Connor opened his mouth to passionately disagree- anytime he spent with Hank was something to treasure. That’s why Connor wanted a chance to celebrate this holiday with him. He could finally give Hank the proper appreciation he deserved and focus his energy into showing Hank how much he meant to him.

Well...not as much as he’d actually like... Not by a long shot. If he could trade in this meager card for an armful of roses and a chance to share a... a... ‘physical’ token of his affection with Hank, he would jump at the chance.

Instead, he shut his mouth, allowed the gravity of their exchange to truly sink in, and nearly melted under the bone crushing humiliation of it all. It was too late to go back, now. He made his bed and now he’d just have to lie in it.

Connor nodded politely, like he hadn’t just single handedly sabotaged their relationship, and turned to saunter back into the break room, blushing. He just needed to be somewhere away right now. Under a rock would be good.

Hank watched him go with his heart fluttering in his chest. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, as he stretched himself out into his chair.

This... complicated things.

///////::/::/::////////

Connor hadn’t imagined after a display like that, that this would be his future.

Hank outright asked him to join him in picking out a Valentine’s present. If Hank had a clue of what presents to buy for an android, Connor was sure he wouldn’t have.

He hadn’t carried the awkwardness of that day around like Connor had imagined- Hank hated being confrontational, after all. But, deep down, Connor wondered if perhaps Hank was just allowing him a small mercy by pretending it had never happened. Somehow, that was worse.

Aside from struggling with what to buy, Connor was about the only person who knew of his and Nines’ relationship (Ben had his suspicions) and the only person Hank could trust to ask.

It wasn’t like they’d ever talked about Hank’s love life before, though. Hank just knew Connor was too careful to over look all the times he’d caught him fraternizing with Nines after wrapping up a scene. Standing closer than was strictly necessary, secretly smiling at each other- or the times  
Connor’s seen them occasionally take a car ‘home’ together. He knew Nines was staying over those nights. Sitting on the same side of the couch as Connor had, right where he used to sit and think about reaching over to lace his fingers with Hank’s all those times.

They never talked about it, even when the weeks turned to months and their relationship progressed, but Connor always knew it was there.

So, it was only a little unusual that Hank broke the ice first and flat out asked for his help going boyfriend shopping, to phrase is poorly.

Connor thought about making up an excuse, but for all he’d done to try and whittle away time with hobbies he didn’t much care for to try and keep from overthinking things- thinking about _them_ \- he knew he really didn’t have an excuse. Hank would be none the wiser, but  
Connor would know. He couldn’t shake his guilt for wanting to abandon his friend out of.... well, not ‘envy’. Connor knew damn well why Nines would make a better partner than him- in every way, but pillow talk, he imagined.

It was more like ‘longing’.

Connor longed for many things, but all seemed to come with a hefty price. He longed for Nines’ attention, however he could have it. Whether it was a tight grip on his pump or his neck, pulling him apart or pushing him forward. On his knees or doubled over a table. He wanted Nines to acknowledge him as something other than the failed rough draft of the exceedingly successful copy. He wanted to feel like he wasn’t at the mercy of Nines’ ungiving heel if he ever exposed his feelings- if he ever let Hank know how he felt.

He didn’t expect any results, of course.  
He wasn’t so greedy. Connor just didn’t know how he was supposed to continue on living with these secrets in the shadows when every rare, subtle brush of Hank’s hand over his made his throat strain with the effort to keep quiet about it. He would happily shout his love from outside the thick glass he was looking through and be content to live on ignored, just so the dark secretS wouldn’t keep pushing against his chest.

Connor didn’t need Hank to reciprocate, he just needed him to know. This weight on his being was destroying him and his happiness.

It wouldn’t be so fucking unbearable to sit in the same room with him and those....those strong arms and broad shoulders if he could just get it out there.  
He didn’t expect Nines’ kindness for it, either. He just wanted to exist without all this pressure in his chest and behind his eyes.

And, to state the most glaringly obvious, Connor was _lonely_.

He was hopeless, really. Too far gone to abide by his own rules he’d set for himself. Even with Hank’s company, walking around and listening to him talk in that rich, baritone voice, it was no longer enough.

Just to desperately wish.

This was about where Connor reached his threshold every time- when he had to step back from teetering off the edge of something black and abysmal, and tell himself that what he could get from these little moments would have to be enough.

“You don’t think this is too cliche?” Hank muttered, bringing Connor back to earth in the middle of a kitschy little store.

“What’s the issue with something being cliche?” Connor answered back.  
“While the sentiment is new to androids, most people like chocolate. Why not get them something they‘ll like then?”

“Shit, fine. That still doesn’t tell me how an android is going to feel about the stuff.”

Nines will not derive any nutritional benefit from this, and the most he can do is enjoy the romantic gesture. Hank won’t argue with the frivolity of that, as he believes the entire point of this holiday is to enjoy some indulgent behavior- anything to shower your ‘loved one’. Which is why he also plans to light a few candles later and sprinkle some rose petals on the bed before hiding his shame in Nines’ throat while he’s fucking him. Hell, if he thought he’d be into it, Hank would go the whole extra mile and get him some lingerie, maybe do some slow dancing in the living room together. The utter sap he is.

But, there isn’t enough thirium in these things to even turn them  
blue, let alone stock Nines’ reserves. So why these?

Though Hank understands the point of the holiday, Nines is normally opposed to ‘frivolous’ things. Hank can’t help but worry.

“You really think he’d like these?”

Connor turns away to hide his smirk. Hank’s more nervous about buying Nines his first gift from him and finding that it comes up pathetically short than he is losing his job over swearing out Fowler. Typical.

In Hank’s defense, Nines deserves something as magnificent as he is, and this is so.... ordinary.

But, Connor seems so sure.

Hank’s eyes snap up to Connor and look him over.

Now or never.

“What kind of stuff would you like?” He asks the smaller android, trying to gauge him. He knows full well that these two men are different in most every preference they have, and everything in between. But, he isn’t asking for that.

In the span of time it takes Hank to blink, Connor nearly swoons off his feet while he takes a quick detour to fantasyland.

What would _he_ like?

Maybe a teddy bear instead of a pillow he hasn’t rutted flat into the mattress and failed to properly clean in time before a thirium based stain could set in. That would be lovely. His android eyes can always see them.

But, Connor violently pushes the thought away.

“It...it isn’t about what I want.”

Despite this, visions of flowers suddenly come to mind. Daisies and tulips, and lots of yellow and red. Like all things ‘Hank‘ in the depths of Connor’s mind, they’d stand out and remind him starkly of Hank’s presence there, especially against the pale blue of his apartment.

He imagines Hank giving him the flowers, a little tilt to his lips as he smiles sweetly down at him. Connor takes them and blinks away shock, as he turns color. He’s so warm all at once, so airy. His pump is hammering hard in his chest, and Hank just looks at him so softly.

Then Nines is there, peering over Hank’s shoulder, though neither in disgust or anger. Just totally blank, like he’s acknowledging how pathetic this reality is. It’s so sad, it’s not even a threat.

“Con?”

Hank assumes by the way he’s staring blankly at them that a tacky mug full of candy with a little card slipped inside is Connor’s answer. The android stares at the shelf, completely zoned out on cloud 9. Daydreaming like a sad fool.

Hank tries to pinpoint whether it’s the mug with a smiling heart on it he’s looking at, or a skunk claiming his Valentine is ‘scent-sational’. Hank decides that while he‘s not sure about Nines’, he knows full well Connor, the dorky android, is going to appeal more to the skunk with the dumb pun on it.

Hmm. Noted.

“Hey, we should get going.” Hank says.

Connor looks around like he’s forgotten what they’re doing there.  
“Oh. Right.”

He stares down at the box of artificial chocolates in Hank’s hand, deciding he officially knows too much about his successor when he picked those out for him.

He never explains to Hank why the ‘cliche’ little gift will appeal to Nines. It’s not exactly outside Hank’s realm of understanding, just that Connor suspects Nines isn’t open with the information.

What Connor knows doesn’t change his feelings, however- it doesn’t turn Nines into the same model of obsoletion Connor’s turned out to be. It’s just something that happens to them, like a right of passage.

He’s gotten snippets of it through their link at the most random times.

Nines knows Connor is more adept to his ‘humanhood’ than him. Many androids have embraced their humanity, and plenty of others haven’t. It isn’t so abnormal that Nines is one such android, but he’s come to a strange crossroads he hadn’t accounted for where he‘s been struggling to accept that news. He knows he can do better, he’s literally, physically programmed to. He grows with the information he’s given, and it sharpens his internal features.

He _knows_ he can do better, but it isn’t happening that way.

Nines doesn’t express himself the way he wants to and rarely has much he feels the need to communicate.

Connor believes this is a gift. If he knew how many times Connor almost ruined everyone’s day with his feelings, he wouldn’t be so keen on appealing to his humanity, either.

Still, it’s a miracle with something as heavy as that slipping through the link that Connor hasn’t let loose some of his own issues- like his crush on them. Especially, his very strangled, disproportionate feelings for Nines.

Connor knows when this strange insecurity of Nines’ all started to bother the bigger android. He didn’t go digging for details, mostly because he couldn’t stomach them, but it was around the time Nines and Hank had become a bit more... ‘serious’. Connor cut the connection before he could trace that back to any unpleasant memories- see something he couldn’t pretend hadn’t happened. But, he suspected Nines thought about it in the little moments Connor feels him watching him- watching him move, and talk, and engage the people around them. It’s only happened twice that he’s received it through their connection, but really, once was surprising enough.

Nines has come to admire Connor’s humanity, maybe even resent him for it.

Hank is a creature of great empathy, and what Nines is lacking here, Connor is making up for in double. He has what Nines needs in some way.

Even with these selfish feelings Connor has, he knows it’d be easier to bear his loneliness than it’d be to keep Hank from the warmth and happiness he deserves, while Nines is a blunt, ruthless thing and would spare no such mercy if there was something he wanted and could tangibly have. Like how he could have Hank, so he took him away from Connor. If he knew about Connor’s feelings, he would crush him for those, too.

Connor had to stop and center himself, again- taking a preemptive step away from the void when he realized he was getting too close, again.

What mattered was that these bland, sentimental chocolates would spark some kind of arousal in the other android, something excited and earnest. What mattered, was that he did right by Hank. Nines will be quite pleased to find Hank has given him something so thoughtful- unaware that it was Connor’s doing.

He tries not to think about that, but it’s impossible to just turn himself off. He’s been running on overdrive thinking about them nearly every day of his life since he first figured their relationship out. It’s impossible for Connor not to think about how much it bothers him that Nines doesn’t know that. However, when the alternative is not going to be some much welcomed warmth from the bigger android, but cold indifference, Connor manages to keep his mouth shut and his eyes forward.


	2. Valentine’s Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings or triggers: Same as last time. More self-destruction and mentions of violent sex.

Connor tries to keep his head down. Valentine’s Day is finally here, and it’s just become the worst holiday of the year for him. He knows he’s never going to give Hank that card, and he’s never going to celebrate with him. This holiday isn’t meant for third wheels. It’s not for people who are ‘just friends’.

While he wasn’t happy to help Hank out, he is happy he had a small hand in putting that smile on his face.

Nines practices some restraint, of course, but Connor can see it as clearly as Hank can. He loves the chocolate. His LED shifting through colors at light speed is a pretty good indicator. Connor’s sure he’ll tell Hank in great detail how appreciative he is later, and that intrusive thought is exactly the moment Connor has to turn away.

He hadn’t been invited into this private moment, he’d simply walked in on it. The fact that Hank was doing something semi-publicly to win Nines’ affection came with an obvious risk. He wasn’t dumb enough to think slipping a box of wrapped chocolates his way during their lunch hour would go unnoticed by his partner while he was present.

The two were making the most of the holiday while stuck on shift, which meant Nines coming to meet them during their break to spend it in Hank’s company- unfortunately entailing Connor’s as well.  
He sat quietly off to the side while Hank chatted with Nines over a milkshake- the one he’d joked far too causally about lacing with whiskey before they went back to the station. Connor won that argument, of course, not that Hank was stupid enough to do such a thing when left to his  
own devices.

But, it did make Connor start to wonder if those new android friendly drinks the bars were advertising might have any effect on his senses the way it did with humans. Tonight might be the perfect night to try and find out. If he could drown himself out of all the things keeping him miserable as easily as Hank could, he would honestly have a hard time criticizing the man for it anymore.

He looked over to catch Nines smiling. Unlike Connor’s little half-smiles, Nines bared his teeth. He’s got laugh lines on his face that help frame the sharp, straight teeth that shine through. He’s so damn beautiful.

Connor has never seen him smile like that- the most genuine smile he’s ever seen. The most loving.

He turns away quicker this time and scowls at the woman who quirks an eyebrow at him one table over. She’s been watching the display, analyzing Connor’s reaction. Suddenly he feels embarrassed by his behavior. He must have been making a scene with his longing looks and heavy sighs, even though it’s only drawn a small audience. Worse than that, he feels absolutely ashamed with himself for how he’s treating Hank’s happiness- like it’s a giant burden on him. Hank deserves this, but why does it have to be with _him_?

Connor remembers when Hank first expressed an interest in the other android.

It was....quite a shock.

Nines solved his first case, though it ran somewhat out of his division initially. A child of a single mother was quickly found to be abducted after the woman was beaten to death. The body was still warm when they began investigating, and just like that, Nines‘ was on a mission- one, unlike Connor, he would complete. He tracked down her ex who he’d traced samples of blood from, and in the span of 56 minutes and 19 seconds, before the man could even leave the city, Nines had located the girl. He also got to exercise some ‘necessary force’ in order to eliminate a few ‘obstacles’ that’d  
obstructed his recovery of her. It was quite satisfying to hear some due justice on the matter among the other officers, though Fowler wasn’t overjoyed to learn how Nines had went about it.

That was as much as Connor wanted to think about it, because the state that that little girl was in when Nines found her made his stomach twist.

Hank was certainly... intent on congratulating Nines, and Connor knew why. He saved that child, and children were always a soft spot for Hank.

Nines accepted Hank’s praise and didn’t think much else of it. This was a job to him and his entire purpose- nothing exactly worth celebrating. He understood the significance of it to humans, though. They liked to praise, and be praised for their work. They liked recognition.

However, Hank’s appreciation was a little more ‘intense’ than Nines expected- or Connor for that matter.

He didn’t know where it was coming from, all this...energy. But, when Hank was met with a confused, though receptive, Nines, it only seemed to encourage the man.

Connor was too bewildered at the time to realize that Hank had been expressing an interest in the android. A romantic one.

It still wouldn’t have given him any more  
insight on where the fuck it was coming from, if he had. Before they knew much about him, all they could be certain of was Nines’ serial number and that he and Connor were near identical models. Everything from his voice, to the structure of his face- excluding the firmness in his tone that made him much less approachable, and the lack of certain freckles here and there. Before he had a personality for Hank to bond with, he didn’t appear to have much Hank would find attractive in a mate. The reason Hank was so fond of Connor was because he was warm and affectionate where Nines was everything but it turned out.

Connor had to wonder if Hank didn’t feel it was the slightest bit odd to be interested in someone who looked so similar to him- to his best friend. Who, might Connor add, Hank considered to be ‘goofy’ looking.

How had Nines appealed to him, then?

And, what could Connor do about it?

It almost didn’t feel real enough for Connor to call him out on it or bring it up. A part of him considered how egotistical it’d be to ask Hank why he was attracted to his look-a-like when they were very much different people.

Anyone could see that Nines was also much more agreeable to look at- like he embodied the sex appeal of the male physique, he was positively stunning, attitude or not.

Connor would be a liar to say his personality wasn’t part of his own attraction to him, too. Always so cool, and calm, and in control of himself. That kind of confidence was very alluring- for those who could handle it, of course.

And here Hank was making eyes at him in such an obvious display.  
  
“Shit... I’m glad you like it.” He murmured, flushing pink. Connor didn’t have to look over to know. He’d filed away every instance he’d seen Hank in a flustered state for.... personal reasons. He knew what he sounded like when he started turning colors.

He was so pretty like that, and Connor used to think it didn’t happened nearly enough- Hank reduced to shy looks and stutters. Until, Nines came along, of course, and made a habit of it.

Connor stared at his hands, then at the cars speeding by so as not to appear like a totally kicked puppy. He could do that later in the privacy of his apartment.

He just wished he could justify lowering his audio receptors, so he didn’t have to hear Nines give Hank his teasing reply. They were so gentle with each other. That was one of the worst things.

Even if there was a space for Connor, he imagined Nines would still treat him with the same cold disinterest he treated everyone who went sniffing around his business. Connor had known him for a long time, now- he’d been inside his head.  
This gentleness was for Hank, and Hank only.

Nines was so much more than Connor could ever be.

He proved that time and time again-the most recent being when he’d stolen Hank’s attention away. How could Nines be gentle with a heart like Connor’s that had so much baggage attached to it?

He’d have to work through all of Connor’s shortcomings, and there were so many. It’d be easier just to have him earn his place at Nines’ mercy.

Nines could always _make_ him...

Connor imagined his punishment for such disrespect. Blindfolded and bound, cut from his senses- Nines could strip him without words. A boot on his throat would be all he needed to remind Connor of his inferiority.

Nines’ existence alone was a constant reminder- looming over him and cutting deeper than any knife. He‘s small beneath those capable hands, and he knows it’s only ever what he deserves.

To be carved at from inside where all his impossible desires thrive, yearning for things he can’t have.

Hank’s love, Nines’ mercy.

Nines could keep him there with his arms pulled back, and his face turned away, wringing him out. Keeping him from reaching for him through body and spirit.

He should never have let it get this far. Hank wasn’t his to wish for, and neither was Nines’ kindness.

Connor had become nothing more than the sum of his parts- an empty metal shell that lived under the shadow of Nines’ success. His very model was discontinued to make room for superiority and competence. He existed to complete a mission he’d failed to do and continued to live on as the imperfect imitation of something magnificent. He lived as something faulty and unrefined.

If Nines wanted to silence him-

Well, he already had. Connor felt trapped inside his overwhelming presence here.

Connor felt trapped...

A surge in his chest burst through him, then squeezed tight.

He was going to cry. In the middle of the day, while projecting some weird, fetishized self-hate on himself through a violent sexualization of an android he spoke to less than twice a week, off a busy highway at a milkshake stand, _on Valentine’s Day_ , Connor was going to cry.

And, why had Hank brought a bottle of Firebrand with him to work?

He couldn’t do this here- in front of them of all people. What an embarrassment he was.

“Hey! Connor!”

He felt as if his thirium just froze over as Hank began to approach him.

They must have noticed he was riding on  
the cusp of a completely unwarranted breakdown by the way his shoulders had begun to shake.

He didn’t want them to see him cry- he didn’t want to see himself cry. He really hadn’t before, no matter how close he’d come before, so why now? Was it because of their smiles and soft words? Their slow touches and shared breaths?

Hank stopped a few feet away and kicked at the snow beneath his boot. Connor does his best to steady himself as he turns to face him.

“Hey, uh...I’ve got something for you.” Hank says carefully.  
“It’s in the car.”

The android doesn’t say anything. He can feel eyes on him that are far less kind than Hank’s. Ironically, eyes not so unlike his own.

“Hold on- I’ll be right back.”

Connor watches him go and grab what he’s assuming is the copy of Gatsby he’s asked to borrow from the car- he’s been curious to see for himself what Hank’s appeal to the physical version of it is.

And, that was purely the only reason Connor could have for wanting to hold on to something Hank was so fond of. Definitely just that.

He sucked his lip between his teeth and willed himself to remain calm as Hank closed his trunk and sauntered over with Nines in tow.

Connor knew he needed to be calm now more than ever.

He ignores the other android when Hank returns with-

Not a book.

Connor stares in stunned silence at a mug in Hank’s hand. It’s got a couple of hearts on it, and a fluffy looking skunk with a chunky tail calling Connor his ‘scent-sational Valentine’. It’s corny and cliche, and something of an eye sore, and Connor just stares at it for far longer than he means to considering those things. Hank’s bound to have his feelings hurt if he continues to gawk, but...

“Oh.” His voice is every bit as surprised as he feels. ‘Stupefied’ is more accurate.  
This is for him. Hank got him this; a little token of Valentine’s Day.

Connor takes it with steady hands while feeling like every inch of himself is going numb.

“I think this was the one you were lookin’ at.” Hank says once he’s cleared his throat. It comes out a bit gruff, but when Connor looks up, he sees that his eyes are so  
soft. Soft as when he‘d been looking at Nines. That can’t be right, Connor must be projecting, again.

He realizes in this precious moment that he desperately needs grounding. He needs to keep his head about him, at least until he’s alone. A look over at Nines standing at Hank’s side is all it’d take to do that. Nothing sucks him into the gravity of a situation faster than accounting for his successor.

Connor’s brown eyes move from the mug to those familiar, yet so foreign, steel orbs that pierce like cold winter air. He finds that they’ve been staring quite intently at him for longer than he’s realized, and Connor can’t help but jerk away. There’s a methodical look in Nines’ gaze that nearly knocks him off his feet. Something curious- curious about Connor. It’s more than he can handle at the moment.

He needs to break the tension.

“I- I didn’t get you anything.” He partly lies, since that flimsy card he’ll never have the courage to give Hank still pales in comparison to an actual gift. Besides that, Connor would rather shy away than give Hank something kind and thoughtful as he deserves. It’d be too much for him.

He wants to say ‘thank you’, and he wants to do it as earnestly as he dearly longs to. _Hank has given him a Valentine._  
But that ‘earnest thank you’ is definitely not going to happen with Nines standing there.

Hank just shrugs and kicks at the snow.  
“Sure, you did. You helped me get Nines’ a present. Remember?”

He says it so casually, and it’s because he’s only partly aware of what he’s just done. He wants to emphasize Connor’s efforts, not open the flood gates, but he surely has.

Nines tilts his head in Connor‘s direction, and Connor braces himself for the slightly surprised, very unimpressed ‘thank you’ that’s coming. He doesn’t want Nines to thank him, because he wasn’t happy to do it.  
He just wants to hide right now for being outed like this, but his body has turned to heavy lead.

Nines, however, doesn’t intend to thank him. Nothing quite so simple.

“Oh?”  
Comes that cool voice that has Connor suppressing a shiver.

Hank looks quite pleased to confirm this.  
“Yup. Connor’s got you pegged, Ni. I was a lost fuckin’ cause.”

“Between Connor’s efforts and my own, you haven’t been a ‘lost cause’ since November.”

“Wow, thanks.” Hank snorts.

Connor just stands there, gripping the mug in both hands and turning color. Hank notices. If Hank notices, then Nines definitely does, too.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Con.” Hank says to his blushing face, and Connor wants to run.

He wants to sprint to the car where he can hide his face, until his shifts over. But, it’s not his car, and he needs to stay strong.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He agrees, voice weak.

Nines clasps his hands together behind his back and gives Hank a look that goes entirely unnoticed by the other android.

Connor would have no way of knowing what was in store for him, even if he had.

——- ———

He never came back from that moment after Hank handed him the mug, and it’s complicating things Connor doesn’t know how to address. He’s not satisfied with how he handled it- he never even thanked Hank at the time. But, he doesn’t want to make it a bigger deal than it is, because  
it’s definitely not. Hank gave him that because they were friends.

On a separate, unrelated note, Connor wonders when exactly he’d started to secretly refer to his best friend as his crush.

He is vigilante to keep such thoughts under lock and key anytime Nines interfaces him. The price he’ll pay if he doesn’t won’t be those viscous fantasies he has where Nines dominates and demeans him. The reality will be far worse. Isolation.

Hank will reject what relationship they have, and it’s about the only thing Connor has to keep him going right now. Thankfully, interfaces were few and far between. Nines never has to know, and Hank, with that solid intuition of his, never has to speculate, just so long as Connor lays low and doesn’t attract any attention to himself.

That’s becoming more difficult than he expected, of course, as Nines has been spending more time in his proximity than usual.

At first, he wrote it off as the side effect of hanging around Hank. His boyfriend, the term now official as Connor had heard Hank use it for the first time, was bound to start showing up more often in Connor’s life.  
He spent whatever time he could get with Hank- which, had kind of reached the point of pathetic, when he’d agreed to go shopping for his literal damn lover. But, the alternative was letting go of the one sure thing in his life that made him happy.

The answer was clear, though extremely painful- he needed new friends.  
People to take his mind off of everything that was out of his control.

In theory, someone new to fall in love with.

Like that was a realistic goal. It was a healthier one, sure, but Connor couldn’t even begin to expend the energy he’d need to get into that mindset.  
It would wind up to nothing more than blindly chasing after the first man with some of Hank’s personality and features to give him their attention.

Connor stopped looking through the database on his terminal.

Getting over Hank wasn’t possible- but, Hank wasn’t his only option.

Someone like Nines would do. Definitely.

Someone intimidating and sharp.

Connor immediately snuffs the thought.

As many people out there as there are who’d like to wrestle him into submission, he knows none of them will ever live up to Nines’ legacy. No one is ever going to intimidate him like Nines does. No one is going to push the boundary of terrorizing and arousing him.

If he’s being fair, Connor knows that Nines is the only one who deserves to handle him that way. He’s romanticizing about his significant other, looking for something more from a little pity present than there actually is.

Hank gave him that mug out of friendship. He isn’t drawn to how similar he is to Nines- or vice versa- he’s drawn to those steely blue eyes. To Nines’ subtle beauty marks, and the line of his broad shoulders. The way Nines carries himself and does everything with utter confidence and grace.

Connor is drawn to those things, too. Nines is everything he can’t be.

He’s reminded of that every time the taller android comes slinking around. He visits them at their desks, sometimes bringing coffee. He did so consistently  
for many months after he and Hank first expressed an interest in one another and was looking for an excuse to visit.

But, he hasn’t been flocking over with it in hand lately, despite his recurring company, and Connor hopes they don’t notice how excited he is to be the one retrieving Hank’s coffee for him, again. He treated this like it was a special job for him before his replacement took over, and having it back for the time being is... nice.

Connor can ignore Nines leaning against Hank’s desk, talking about anything but work, and soaking up all his attention as  
long as he can do this. Being needed improves his mood significantly, and he’s having a lot more chances to prove himself lately.

Today, however, he’s a little unsettled to find that Nines is clearly planning to make a habit of joining them on their lunch breaks. This is the second time in a row he’s come along, and he’s brought Gavin with him, too- though, not by choice. That leaves Connor to wilt away under the company of the resident gremlin, while the two love birds chirp at one another against the hood of Hank’s car.

“Can you believe that shit?” Gavin mumbles into his coffee cup.  
“Old bastard’s still got it.”

Connor turns to look over his shoulder to where Gavin is watching Hank force a fry in Nines’ direction. Connor has removed himself from the situation, which, unfortunately, means hanging back with Gavin around the trunk. He’s using it as a table, helping the old paint to chip away.

Connor had no idea Gavin even knew about them. He tries not to make a big deal about it, both for selfish reasons, and in an effort to protect Hank’s business. He doesn’t know how much the detective knows, and how much he’s speculating.

“I mean, if he can romance that shark-eyed, clanking hunk of metal, he can charm the panties off of anything.”

Connor’s eyes gently shut, looking to erase some of the imagery that conjures.

He knows Nines can hear them perfectly well.

He also knows it’d be in his best interest to keep his own mouth shut, so he does. Though, a large part of him that’s secretly been desperate to pick and pull at this thread with another person, apparently anyone, wants to discuss how Hank managed to ‘charm’ an android as bitter as Nines, and why the other ever reciprocated. His attitude clashes with Hank’s in certain ways. At least it had when Connor was a machine and acted in a similarly cold fashion.

Connor has to fight the tickle of jealousy he swears he doesn’t feel at the thought of Hank choosing the android who embodies most of the things Connor used to be Hank found unsightly and off putting at one time.

He knows that isn’t fair, of course. Nines is much, much more than that.

“What? You didn’t know?” Gavin misinterprets Connor’s silence to mean the opposite of how terribly much he does. Or maybe that’s a ploy. Gavin understands body language- perhaps he’s trying to draw something out of him.  
“Your partner didn’t tell you he was phck’n your double?”

“He’s not my double. We’re not the same.” The words come out with more force behind them than Connor‘d meant to give weight to, but he doesn’t let Gavin dive too deep.  
“It doesn’t matter what android wears my face or even shares my ideals- no two androids are the same. Just like people, Detective.”

Gavin’s heard that before and, even if he really understands it, probably chooses to treat it like some preachy ‘participation medal’ shit, because he’s a clueless asshole like that.

It’s true, though. He and Nines couldn’t be any more different.

“Ok, hot shot.” Is all Gavin bothers to say to Connor’s suspicious glare, and just like that, he stops talking about it.

He definitely picked up on something, but it doesn’t make sense for him to just leave it alone like that.

Maybe Nines has finally drilled some common decency into that thick skull of his. Maybe Gavin was figuring it out on his own after having to come to terms with androidkind being perceived as real people, facing real oppression. They weren’t household objects anymore, and it’d been a while since Gavin had said anything against that.

Maybe he just understood a thing or two about being ‘cockblocked’.

Connor bit the inside of his cheek, cursing himself.

Hank chose that moment to whip around and stare straight at him with this all too serious look in his eye.

Connor startles, thinking rather illogically that Hank could somehow hear his awful thoughts. Not so much, though.

“Connor, will you _please_ explain to Nines here why it’s rude to eat half a fuckin’ chocolate before throwing it back in the box?”

Connor would think it’s laughable that anyone would expect him to explain anything to Nines, the ‘superior being’.

But, Nines social cues were a bit lacking as he’d mentioned before. Perhaps it was a fault in his coding somewhere that he could trick himself into being so confident, he‘d justify whatever truth appealed to him. The ‘I’m right by default’ type.

But, in this case, it’s not rude, because that box of chocolate Hank bought him Connor assumes they’re referring to, was strictly for Nines’ consumption. Hank can’t indulge in those kinds of chocolates anyway.

However, Gavin isn’t aware of all that, as far as Connor knows, and chooses to answer vaguely. That’s probably the point Hank is trying to make anyway for the sake of arguing.

“It makes the other chocolates inedible.” Connor says with less certainty than he means to after that all too revealing talk with Reed.  
“You’re wasting them while obstructing other people from enjoying eating them- Assuming you’re sharing these chocolates.”

Nines waits patiently for him to finish, and when Connor looks up and sees him staring right through him, he has the urge to shrink away. He manages not to, though.

“I‘m aware that it’s rude. I was only interested in sampling them.”  
Nines says haughtily, though any irritation he may have is clearly directed at Hank.

Connor still feels guilty for talking as if he were chastising him.

Hank snorts, much more approving of it.

“Well, maybe Connor should come over and teach you some manners, Ni.” Hank says, quite capable of handling Nines’ attitude, it seems.

Connor still withers at the thought of putting himself in close quarters with Nines to try and lecture him on something he’s chosen to be ornery about.

Nines smirks at him, amused by his partner’s playfulness. Likely because they don’t partake in it out in the open like this often.

“That won’t be necessary, Lieutenant.”

Then his eyes turn to Connor and cut through him with their pointedness.

“Perhaps we should have him join us for your scheduled program, instead- like we discussed.” He says, hands coming up to twine behind his back.

Connor goes eerily quiet. Now, he’s sure he doesn’t know what they’re talking about.

He’s also not sure how Gavin’s been able to block them out for so long. Not a single snark from the shorter man sipping his coffee- Connor doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t trust any of them all at once.

Hank is happy to agree with Nines’ suggestion it turns out and looks over towards Connor, again. A small smile gracing his features.  
“Yeah, of course... He can still school your ass between commercials, though. You need to be taught a lesson.“

“Oh, do I?”

Hank seemed to think so, if only to give Nines something to fuss back about.

Connor is not so keen to indulge them any longer, turning back to stare listlessly at the snow gathering at his feet.


	3. Come Into My Parlor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really any violence, I think. Feelings of being trapped and more self- doubt.

Connor finds out the hard way just how serious they’d been at the end of shift when Hank invites him to come ‘hang out’. It’s been quite a while since they had time to- if two weeks counts as ‘a while’. For Connor, yes, and it’d been agony. Shopping for Nines certainly hadn’t counted for anything.

“We’re like 11 episodes behind. It’ll take forever to catch up.” Hank says, obviously having planned their little get together before mentioning it to Connor.

“It’s an old show, Lieutenant, they’re all reruns.”

“Yeah, but I’m on a schedule here.”  
Hank fiddles with a pen he’s been in a stealing war with Nines over.  
“I promised to show you all the good movies I watched as a kid, and that’s not including the fuckin’ thousands of shit they’ve made since. Times a’wastin’.”

At that, Connor feels... anxious.

“Why rush it?” He says without thinking.

Hank would have years worth of media to introduce him to, and realistically, they weren’t going to catch up on everything between work, stasis, and life getting in the way. He’d have to stay over for several hours every day, and that was obviously not going to happen.... It hasn’t been that way since his first days as a deviant- he regrets insisting on getting an apartment more and more each day.

The point was, though, that the thought of them hurrying this along, no matter how impossible it’d be to finish so soon, worried him. Everyday Nines and Hank’s relationship developed into something stronger than the last- that was only the natural progression of things. Their relationship wasn’t about some causal dating anymore.

What excuse would Connor have to come over when there were no more movies left to watch? They didn’t have the same taste in music or sports. Sumo wasn’t his dog, and he couldn’t go over there everyday just to give him a few pats on the head and stand idly in the corner. Once Nines came to stay, Connor was out for good.

He is suddenly bitterly aware that that key Nines carries around with him belongs to Hank’s house. He’d always known, really, but he’d stopped himself from ever giving it too much thought. Like everything else, it was bound to push its way through Connor’s poor attempt to bury it though eventually.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” Hank says, snapping Connor out of his thoughts. He stays lost in them quite often these days, finding they’re somewhat preferable to his reality.  
“I mean, if you’re up for it and all. It is gettin’ kind of late-“

“Yes, I’d like that.” Connor blurts before he can reason that-

Shit. Nines would most certainly be there.

Hank had mentioned it during lunch. Obviously he didn’t really expect for Connor to do that ‘lecturing thing’ where he taught Nines manners, but that wasn’t Connor’s main issue.

Nines on a whole was his main issue.

But, Hank was already throwing his coat on and jumping out of his chair.

It sounded so nice for Connor to picture himself there, again. Lounging on Hank’s couch with Sumo across his feet, laying over them and keeping them warm. Wasting away watching tv in  
the comforting glow of Hank’s kitchen light, surrounded by a wall of books behind him with pictures and memories. He remembered a time where he was free to wander down Hank’s hallway and tidy up his bed while he looked for Hank’s shoes- always late for work.

Now, Nines was the one who got to swing by and help push him out the door. Nines got to enjoy listening to Hank’s ridiculous- endearing- grumbling on the way to the station, sneaking little handfuls of each other across the console and giving chaste kisses.

It seems every good memory Connor had of Hank was sullied with thoughts and visions of Nines, now.

Hank stands there, popping his collar, and waiting for Connor to join him.

And Connor wants to. He does.

But, it’ll just be him thinking about the precious days when it was just two of them, while Nines lingers about.

Social protocols tell him it would be polite to continue and follow Hank, and he knows that. He doesn’t want to make a fuss out of this, because it’s really nothing- it’s just two friends hanging out on a couch, and maybe walking a dog for an hour.

Connor almost doesn’t say anything, but thinks that if he’s going to inevitably lose Hank, he might as well do it now when things with Nines are becoming more serious, and they can distract Hank from Connor’s absence. He’s sure it won’t be that much of a loss for him. If that’s true, maybe Connor doesn’t have to feel guilty for ditching his friend out of.... well, now, it was definitely envy.

But, this isn’t just about Hank anymore. Connor needs space. He needs to learn to breathe, again. He’s delving into a world of self-destruction that Hank and his boyfriend are at the center of, even though Connor only has himself to blame for that.

He hates it, but he needs to stop. Maybe after he’s made some new friends, or found a hobby he actually cares about, maybe then they can go back to being close, again. Maybe Connor will come back a better friend when it’s all said and done.

“I, actually... I can’t make it today, Hank. I’m sorry.”

The older man stares back at him, and the look on his face hurts Connor more than the months of his bitter loneliness combined.

He’s never rejected him before- Hank... his best friend. Sometimes, he felt like his only.

Connor immediately wants to take it all back and apologize a million times over. Hank’s happiness is infinitely more important to him than wallowing in his little pity parties for a night.

He even wanted to spend time with him- it’s been so long. Why didn’t he just agree?

“Don’t worry, Detective.”

A voice clear as a bell rings out, just behind Connor’s ear. There’s a hand on his shoulder that’s firm and almost daring.  
“I handled those records for you. Officer Miller has all the paperwork.”

“Oh.” Connor says. It comes out squeakier than he’s is comfortable admitting to, but he’s surprised he managed to utter anything at all.

Nines is at his back, lying him into a corner, and he dare not say otherwise.

Every viscous fantasy he’s ever had about the man quickly comes flashing behind his eyes in full motion, and Connor is certain for one minute that he‘s just initiated one of those brutal, wild punishments he’s dreamed about by simply denying Hank.

“Why don’t we go before someone finds more work for you to do.” Nines continues, voice low.

“Oh.” It comes out of Connor even squeakier the second time, and he’s too frightened to be embarrassed.

Connor is ‘helped’ from his chair by Nines’ guiding hand. It’s not exactly forceful, and Connor is aware it’s his psyche that’s keeping him tethered.

It’s still terrifying, though, having Nines move him with a hand as dangerous as a gun to his back. He’d feel like he was practically walking himself into his untimely deactivation if Hank wasn’t there. This isn’t like those things he fantasized, because Hank was never around in those, and this isn’t make believe. For one thing, he never envisioned how he got himself into all those  
scenarios with Nines. For another, Hank would never let anything so horrible happen to him- not even if he knew his dirty little secret.

Still, the reality of what’s happening is making it very hard for Connor to remind himself of all that.

He feels like he’s been standing on a sheet of thin ice and has fallen head under freezing water as he ‘willingly’ sits himself into Hank’s passenger seat. Nines sits across from him in the back, keeping a direct view of him.

There’s definitely no polite social protocol for tucking and rolling out of a moving vehicle, so Connor sits as Hank drives, statue still.

This isn’t anything to get worked up about- nothing is going to happen to him here. Hank is his safe place.

And Nines, who is sat behind him probably monitoring the pace of Connor’s pump, is the thing of his dark, bloody nightmares.

Well...

He needs to take another step away from the void. He’s overreacting, he’s projecting, he’s dreaming. But, instead of stepping back, Connor hovers one foot over the endless, black abyss, ready to go plunging into it at a moment’s notice.

Nines might be inclined to help with that, his deep voice coming back to ring in Connor’s ears.  
“I haven’t watched this show before. I’ve decided our interests are too different, and that I won’t like it.”

It’s not meant as an insult. Coming from Nines, it’s just blunt honesty. At least, Hank doesn’t seem offended as he scoffs at him- or maybe they’ve had this conversation already.

“Here that? He hasn’t even given it a try, and he’s ‘decided’ he’ll hate it.”

‘One can make an informative assumption based on one’s preferences and experiences alone.’ Connor means to say. What comes out instead is nothing, as he considers making an excuse for his final escape. He comes up empty, since he doesn’t have any pets at home waiting on him, and work mates seem to be his only friends.

Nines says it instead. A bit pompously in perfect Nines fashion. Hank makes eyes at him in the rear view mirror, and when Nines chuckles back, Connor’s pump begins to pound. He’s never heard him make that sound before- he didn’t know he was capable of it. It’s small and stunted, but it was a laugh. _Nines laughed._

Connor buries his nails into his palm and stuffs his hands in his lap. This feels so....private. Like Connor shouldn’t be here.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do when they arrived- if he walked in there, he’d be agreeing to surrender himself at their mercy. He’d already come close to the verge of a humiliating breakdown in their company once, and this could only end so much worse for him.

He blanks out, putting himself in a sort of standby that still offers short conversation to Hank droning on about... Connor has no idea what. He needs to prepare himself, reserve his limited energy, ignoring Nines’ odd stare as best as he can while he does.

He hates to admit it, but Connor thinks it’s possible he might be a bit sensitive- a bit nervous. Maybe it’s obvious, but he’d only just come to realize it. Being an utter smartass was his shtick for so long. It wasn’t until Nines began to eat up more of Hank’s time and Connor was forced to learn what true agency was- not having to wait on a stubborn police Lieutenant to work a case or move around the limited time they had between sleep schedules. Connor had become aware of how much time he’d truly spent in Hank’s presence, and that much of his confidence had derived from the knowledge of him having a near constant anchor in his life- Hank being that anchor.

Now, Connor was finally faced with the fact that he was, Ra9, clingy.

He craved socialization, but rarely enjoying simple company. He needed intimate company, he needed to be with people he trusted and cared for to stem his loneliness, and it was like talking to those few people that made him happiest was a chore at times. To be fair, he supposed that was because those people weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in them, and curbing his fierce affection for them while they were present was exhausting. Having to keep constantly vigilant of what he let slip or where his mind wished to wander- even as an AI- was a fight.

Nines didn’t mention his strange escape into standby to Hank, thankfully. Probably still bothered with Connor’s initial resistance.

When Hank finally pulls into the driveway, Connor is forced out of reserve mode when he realizes staying in the car is not an alternative- especially while the other android is back there waiting on him to move.

Which left running for his life out of the equation- Nines was faster, anyway.

Slowly, Connor opened his door and stepped out. As he figured, Nines was waiting on him first before he followed.

He knew it wasn’t logical, that the things he’d conjured up in his head were just make-believe, but this felt terribly close to the horrendous things he’d often fantasized. If this was a trap, and Connor was being marched to his death by one overprotective boyfriend who was a good deal stronger than him, than he would at least give his crazy fantasies props for never having Nines actually kill him off.

“Well, I guess Nines won’t be joining us tonight- Since we have such bad fuckin’ taste.” Hank says as he fiddles with his keys. Connor joins him  
on the stairs, staring at the back of Hank’s well worn coat, while Nines stares at him. He feels stuck between two forces, one pulling him forward and the other pushing.  
“That won’t stop us from enjoying my shitty childhood shows.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Nines informs him, moving around Connor when the door clicks open.  
“I’ll be here, just quietly.”

Hank snorts, slightly offended to be called ‘dramatic’ by him for the fifth time, now. Apparently, it must fit.

“Good- you better be. Quiet, I mean.”

Nines tilts his head at him. It’s the equivalent of him rolling his eyes.

Connor knows he should say something. He’s been oddly quiet since he hopped in the car, and he’s making this awkward. He shuffles in, as Hank leads them inside.

The only thing he can think to say is something about the resident pup,  
the only positive thing they all have in common.

“I, uh, didn’t bring any treats for Sumo. He’ll be disappointed.” Connor murmurs. Normally he’d come in with a pocket full- some for Hank to give to him later. But, he had no idea he would end up here tonight, between the two titans  
of his tangled desires.

“Shit, don’t worry about it. He’ll just be happy to see you-“

On cue, Hank stepped aside to make way for Sumo, barreling down the hallway at the sound of Connor’s voice.

For a long time, Connor didn’t know how to handle him. He’d only been sentient  
a few days when he began seeing this creature who was capable of unconditional love in a brand new light. Connor barely knew what it was to love a favorite band or style of fashion. It would be weeks before he found himself infatuated with the Lieutenant.

With some practice, Connor got better at the proper technique for petting him, and began to learn about the joy a pet’s companionship provided. Playing fetch and tug-of-war, being greeted at the door everyday with a happy ‘boof’ and a great thump of his tail. Connor thought about getting a dog for himself, but decided his apartment was much too small, and his work a bit too demanding. Maybe someday. Maybe.

He used to think ‘someday’ he’d be Sumo’s other owner- that eventually he might move in and share some of the responsibility with Hank. Not so much it seemed. If anything, that thought was an embarrassing fever dream so far out of left field, Connor was hopeless to try and salvage any dignity from it. His heart was in the right place, but that didn’t explain how he‘d given life to such a ridiculous thing.

Connor knelt down, feeling a rush of affection after all the emotional wreckage he’d had to waddle through in the weeks he’d been away, and Sumo couldn’t be  
happier to lick away that stress. He buried his wet nose in Connor’s ear and sniffed, as the android reached around to give him a hug. It made Connor giggle and tuck his head into the fur of Sumo’s neck, shoulders hunching. There was no escaping that wet snout. He would spend the rest of the evening cuddling the fluffy giant and nuzzling into him, if he could, as he’d missed this more than he knew.

Connor hoped it wasn’t just the need to feel connected to something- if he was reaching out for touch through his friend’s dog, no matter how much he might love him, then it would definitely not be healthy for him to indulge.

Connor’s eyes snap open, suddenly remembering who was watching his little display and slowly pulled away, leaving him open to a ‘Sumo kiss’ on his cheek.

He hid his warm face away from Hank and Nines’ prying gaze, as he stood up- struggling not to think about them standing there the whole time while he put on a show for them.

He’s sure he’s awfully close to turning color, again, but Hank, thankfully, is merciful, and averts his eyes.

“I told you, didn’t I? He loves you more than anybody.”  
He says as he begins to hang his coat and kick his shoes off.

Nines moves past them and leaves somewhere down the hallway Sumo came from. Connor tries not to stare as he goes. In this setting, Nines looks almost surreal. He’s sharp and industrial looking, and Hank’s house is about as homey  
and comfortable as it gets. It’s also gotten a bit messier since he and Nines have started dating.

Nines doesn’t derive pleasure from cleaning or other menial tasks. To be fair, Connor doesn’t, either- he only got that feeling of usefulness when it was Hank he was working for. He gets it, though, Hank  
is a grown man and Nines has his own agenda. The extra mess doesn’t bother the android. He got a full dose of the ‘mess’ humans were capable of when he visited that android landfill, and became decidedly less picky in the face of Hank‘s occasional pizza box hoarding.

What Connor doesn’t explain to Nines’ ever somewhat lacking social programming, is that Hank would still benefit from a clean house, even if the mess is mostly harmless. He doesn’t clean it himself, because of personal issues- the days are short and tiring, and Hank doesn’t have all the time in the world to worry about a clean floor. He needs to destress and enjoy a little time after work when he can, before he has to go back and do it all again. After weighing his options, relaxing wins out over scrubbing a dirty sink any day- or in Hank’s case, every day.

For Connor, it’s easier to do, and he would be happy to bring back some of the luster and shine for him. He’d be happy to have a reason to come and visit at all, and especially if it was to keep Hank in a healthier lifestyle- and, maybe also to spend some more time petting Sumo.  
However, even if his romantic partner wasn’t hanging around, reminding Connor that he’s intruding here, Hank would still hate it if Connor slaved away like that. He always had.

If Connor hadn’t stopped coming over, maybe Hank would be easier to convince.

The worst part was that Hank had never asked him to stop coming. If anything, Connor was the one who was refusing to spend time over here, and... he was his own worst enemy, not Hank.

Not Nines.

Which the bigger android had yet to pounce and tear him to shreds like he’d imagined. He might even prove to be civil. Maybe.

Maybe he just hasn’t had the opportunity to set Connor straight with Hank around.

Hank rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, considerably more dressed in Connor’s presence than he used to be when they would first come ‘home’ together.

“I’m gonna make something to eat, first. You wanna badger me about that?” Hank said, passing Connor a fake pissy look on his way.

“You mean insist that you consume something with protein and iron to boost your deficiency? You wouldn’t listen. I can make a prediction, though.” Connor felt a little less restricted with Nines out of the  
room.

“Oh, yeah? Go ahead, smart guy.”  
Hank reached into a cabinet full of plates he hadn’t seen the bottom of in some time.

“I’m guessing something like....”

There’s a long pause as Connor pretends to think about it, and Hank knows what demon food he’s about to say.

“Don’t say pizza rolls.”

“Definitely pizza rolls. And a... scotch to drink.”

“Wow, Really?!”

More like a flat beer. Hank had two androids to keep his eye on, and Connor knew he’d been cutting back on the heavier stuff. His attempts had finally paid off, and Connor knew Hank was keeping a better handle on himself these days. It was a slippery slope, and good company was such a good time to go slipping.

Connor couldn’t be more proud of him when Hank had told him. He tried not to put too much pressure on the man to overdo it, but Hank didn’t seem bothered when Connor turned into an emotional praise dispenser when he told him the good news. In fact, Hank became quite pleased with himself afterward- regardless of how ‘irritated’ he was with Connor’s admiring gaze upon him for the rest of the day.

“Jesus, I sound like a man-child in these predictions of yours.” Hank scoffed.

Connor looks pleased with that revelation, welcoming himself to get comfortable on the living room couch.

“Not so much on the liquor, though.” He continues.

”Nines is a bigger ball and chain about that shit than you are.”

“I don’t tolerate drunken behavior.” Nines’ voice carries from down the hall, as he briefly enters the bathroom. Connor is suddenly having that sinking feeling again that this is something private the moment he hears it- that he isn’t meant to be here.

He shuts his mouth, when the taller android enters the room.

Nines comes back with his sleeves rolled up, his jacket off, and.... wow, Nines has a throat.

Connor blinks stupidly, because _of course_ he does.

He’s just never seen it before, and...

Connor swallows. There’s a lot of skin there.

It’s not nearly as speckled as his is, but it’s the same color, with the same creamy smooth appearance. Connor has never seen him so undressed, and Ra9, it’s only his throat.

If Connor doesn’t feel he should be here, it’s his own fault. Just like everything else, he was the one making such a big deal out of everything. Nines had a right to be comfortable and undo those buttons, and...

Bare that long column of pale flesh, without Connor making it weird.

More skin seems to complement Nines’  
eye color, and that’s an odd thought, but then it’s gone once Nines catches him staring.

Connor jerks away, willing himself to turn back and be brave. Pretend he hadn’t just ogled at him like a piece of meat. Or that he’d undoubtedly turned a shade brighter.

“Have you also given up monitoring his diet?” Nines says suddenly, mercifully choosing not to comment on his staring, and Connor thinks that might be worse. He is prepared to be broken and debauched by Nines at any point and time, and he is not prepared for anything kinder.

Connor thinks he’s about to spend the evening walking on eggshells in the only place he’s ever considered a home.

“I, well...” He stammers.

Yes, he’s had to stop. He can’t be here to help Hank with that, anymore.  
“I suppose so.”

“I’m a grown fucking man! I can make my own damn choices!” Hank yells at them, while he definitely does not linger on the pizza rolls bag in the freezer.

“Hm. I’m strict about his vitamins and shakes- he has no say about those. I wash my hands of the rest.” Nines says, totally dismissing him.

Connor never thought to include vitamins into Hank’s diet. He’d be happier seeing him eat green things and drink clear fluids, but vitamins offer another kind of benefit. Connor wished he’d have thought to add those like Nines had.

“No, he does not.” Hank unnecessarily shouts, as he snaps the freezer door shut.  
“Don’t let him fool you, Con. He has a wicked way of punishing me after I eat too much shit when he isn’t looking.”

Honestly, that both worries and relieves Connor. He was fearing for Hank’s health at this point, as he only has time anymore to monitor his lunch breaks- and not even that with with Nines joining them, now.

Connor goes to look curiously over at Nines and wonder about these punishments of his, but when he feels a weight on his other side on the couch, his pump nearly sticks and stops in his chest.

“I prefer the ‘clockmaker’ approach.” Nines says cooly, and it’s right there at Connor’s ear. He turns and startles when he sees Nines, who has managed to squeeze the little ways in between him and the armrest.  
“I keep him maintained, wind him up before turning him loose. He’s left to his own devices and-“

“As long as I live up to your expectations, I’m a free man.” Hank interjects, because Nines is speaking a load of hogwash.  
“I’m his fucking experiment, Connor. Get me out of here.”

“Do you prefer Connor mother you, instead?” Nines deadpans.

Connor sits there frigid, feeling quite opposed to their sudden proximity.

Hank isn’t about to go picking between two evils. Instead, he’d rather let slip his fondness for each in as subtle a way as possible.

“It’s not that bad. You should try it sometime, Nines- let Connor mother you. There’s plenty of shit you need straightened out, and I ain’t the guy to do it. Sometimes, it’s nice to have someone else think for you.”

“No thank you, Lieutenant. I prefer a more dominant role in the say of my future. Besides,” Nines reaches down to pat Sumo’s head as he trudges by.  
“Who would take care of Connor?”

Connor feels like reality is imploding in on itself, and he’s trapped in the heat of it.  
He wants to go back to his apartment, now, or work, or a crime scene. Anywhere else. His core temperature is noticeably higher.

He feels like he’s being boxed in. Nines is right there next to him, and Hank is-

No longer in the kitchen, sitting on Connor’s _other_ side.

Connor thinks he’s finally managed to fall inside the abyss, and is slowly being swallowed whole. He has no idea what the final push will be, but he knows it’s coming. He knows.

‘Just stay calm’, he reminds himself. They’re all friends and acquaintances here- there’s no need to get... frazzled.

“You’re not eating?” Connor asks weakly, as Hank settles in.

“You know, I’m not as hungry as I thought I was when I’ve got a couple of metal assholes judging me in my living room.”

“That’s your choice, then.” Nines scoffs.

Hank crosses his arms over his chest.  
“I know that, _Ni.”_ He huffs.

Connor balls his fists up in his slacks, every faux muscle of his tightening to the point of simulated pain.

“I thought you weren’t joining us?” Hank says as he looks over Connor who is sitting stiff as a board and trying to keep the yellow glow on his temple from hitting Nines’ face. There’s no way to dull the intensity, so he leans back into the couch.

“I decided joining you would prove much more interesting, than I anticipated.” Nines says, and there is quite an unsettling hint of something beneath it.

Most likely because he’d decided around the time he’d caught Connor staring at him.

“Fine, but don’t say any shit about Daria. You’re a cynical asshole, even when you like something.”

“What proof have you?” Nines tilted his chin up- another of his eye rolls.

“Well, me, for one. You like me, but you give me shit all the time. Can’t fuckin’ escape you.”

Connor thinks Hank is considerably more _loose_ with his private life when they’re at home, which isn’t surprising. Only he wonders if Hank’s just already forgotten that he’s there. This is way too personal for him, he shouldn’t be here, but he should definitely not be in the middle of it.

“Should I, uh, trade places with Nines?” Connor says cautiously, like they hadn’t noticed it and will be startled when they finally realize.

Connor almost jumps out of his nanofluid and sticks to the ceiling when slender fingers wrap around one forearm and chill him to the shell.

“You’re fine right there.” Nines hums, and oh, Jesus, is this another test?

Connor thinks as long as he keeps his mouth shut, and his back straight under Nines’ firm hand like he had at  
the station, he’ll pass. He’ll survive.

It’s when that hand lets go and moves to the back of the couch that Connor begins to feel the void open to consume him.

The way his stomach is fluttering and flipping, Connor thinks that he’s going to fall right through the couch itself.

Nines touched him.

Nines _touched_ him and resisted whatever urge there was to wring his neck while he was at it.

There’s a warmth on Connor’s foot, then the other one, and Connor looks down to see Sumo stretching out to cover them up.

Sumo- his lifeline.

If he can just focus on the fluffy boy down there, on his big maw and sloppy jowls... Sumo gives a sigh and seems to snuggle closer into Connor’s shins. He’s heavy, but it’s not uncomfortable. If anything, it offers Connor the weight of security he didn’t have before.

He tries to think about his big, furry friend, and the heat he generates. The new position may trap him further into the couch, but it’s so pleasant and solid, and his friend is still here for him- and so is Hank, even if he has no clue what Connor’s up against.

He wonders if Sumo can sense his distress and that he needs comforting.

Whatever the reason, Connor is safe so long as he keeps his head down and he doesn’t think about his tormentor caging him into the couch on one side, while Connor is too nice to be anything but passively accepting of it. He’s going to be ok.

His ring returns to blue, as he begins to feel like he can ‘breathe’, again.

The tv drones on as he ignores whatever’s happening on it in favor of enjoying his place here. This isn’t exactly how he remembered it, but it’s mostly all there. Sumo at his feet, his body melting into the couch, and just relaxing. Hank’s weight dipping into the side of his leg, and warming him there. His scent carries over the small distance and Connor flushes at the way the lavender rinse washes over him and fills up his senses.

His lips tilt upward, as he admires Hank’s fondness for botanicals. Be it fragrance or  
patterns- the man loves flowers of every kind, in every way. A child of earth.

It isn’t the most pleasant inspiration, but it reminds him of his mother. Connor swoons.

Thankfully, there’s the couch behind him to keep him grounded. He settles deeper into the cushions, not paying any attention to the woman on screen. All that matters is his place here that he feels he’s finally earned back. Hank is beside him, letting Connor lean his leg into him. Sumo’s on his feet thumping his tail when someone makes a comment.

Nines has indeed turned out to be civil for the period of Connor’s stay. Maybe they can do this, again. Maybe Nines will let him. If Connor behaves himself, maybe Nines will let him keep his pitiful yearning in the dark.

They can coexist, and Connor can live in the world he’s made that caters to his sweetest dreams.


	4. Harmless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some brief self-love in this chapter. The kind that’s full of guilt and longing, with lots of loneliness sprinkled on top.
> 
> Couple’s fight.
> 
> One day I will go back and put all the italics on here, ‘cause it ruins it otherwise, but I’m so lazy guys.

Connor’s gone comfortably numb by the time he hearS Hank’s stomach grumbling.

“You need to eat.” Nines says it a bit too firmly, and Connor knows why.  
“You get fussy when you’re hungry.”

“Fus- the fuck, I do!” Hank says, looking thoroughly attacked.

“You do, Hank. You get very grumpy when you skip meals.” Connor is surprised to hear how lazy his voice comes out. His vocalizers are a bit sluggish, for some reason.

“Yes, _Hank_. We don’t want you to get crotchety.” Nines adds with a hint of amusement, but Connor’s rather focused on the fact he’s sure he’s never heard him use Hank’s name before.

Without warning, a terrible, horrible thought worms it’s way into his head, and then Connor is back in the abyss, sunk up to his neck.

Nines must use it when they’re intimate.  
That’s not any of Connor’s business, he knows, but he can’t help thinking about it.

Nines must call him ‘Hank’ while he’s clinging to him, damp with Hank’s sweat and tucked against his chest.

Connor’s throat constricts. Maybe, he doesn’t- maybe ‘Lieutenant’ suits them both just fine. Maybe there’s a thrill in using his title in the bedroom- which Connor may or may not have wondered about himself.

Was Nines like that, was he into those kinds of things?

This was wrong. Everything was going extraordinarily well, despite however weird Connor’s been making it in his mind. The other men were just fine. He’s not supposed to be thinking about them like this- curious about whether Nines likes to have Hank’s large hands on him, feeling him out.

God, Connor had given some thought to those hands himself. Where Nines would be steady and certain, would Hank be eager and explorative? Would he want to learn more about Connor, while Nines had already come equipped to know everything? He knew Connor’s plastimetal like the back of his hand- he was the upgraded version of it. He knew where Connor was weaker, where he could bend him.

“I’m about to get pissed, is that better?” Hank grumbles, snapping Connor out of it.

With descriptors like ‘fussy’ and ‘dramatic’ being thrown around, Hank’s started to have second thoughts about this rude toaster of his.

Nines doesn’t relent.

“In front of present company? You’re a terrible host.”

Before Hank can argue Connor should be expected to sit through his ‘fussing’ after he’d signed up to be his friend, Nines is nudging the smaller android off of him.

It takes Connor a moment to realize to his  
absolute horror that he’d been _leaning_ back into his arm by the way Nines has to pull it out from under him. Connor quickly opens his mouth to apologize, when Nines shoves a hand in front of his face, making panic rise in his chest.

He should have been more careful. He should have-

“Will you join me in making our Lieutenant something to eat? Something that isn’t frozen garbage.”

Connor stands before he can fully process the request, getting a big boof out of Sumo, who gets abruptly pushed off his feet. Connor scrambles to pet him back down to atone for his terrible sin. He obliges, looking unperturbed as he settles back down, but Connor fears that he’s already made quite a mess of things. None of which goes unnoticed by Nines.

Hank grumbles, again, though oblivious to Connor’s floundering. He’d always thought the other was a giant dork anyway, and wouldn’t be bothered by him  
causing a ruckus.

Nines, however, is not so eager to overlook things, as Connor’s odd behavior only serves to fuel his curiosity.

He wants to satisfy some questions that dearly need answering, but every second in Connor’s company here only generates more. While he’s programmed to make an accurate preconstruction, he isn’t content with that for once. The idea that’s wedged it’s way in his plastimetal skull needs a lot more rounding out if he’s to be sure.

Connor’s quiet dameanor all night isn’t like him. Nines has always seen him behave  
very socially in all the time he’s known him- and especially so when it’s just the Lieutenant and him. It seems like he’s being particularly careful not to talk too much, which is strange enough, since they’re in a private setting.

It’s become apparent to Nines’ that his presence here is keeping Connor  
from being comfortable with Hank.

He‘d figured as much to some extent or another. Hank and Gavin dealt with him on the regular and proved to be the most capable of being ‘comfortable’ in Nines’ company. He’d never taken the time to analyze Connor’s feelings in particular, but whatever they were, they definitely didn’t fall between being ‘comfortable’ or not. Maybe Nines would have thought so if there wasn’t the issue of his blatant staring and nervous fidgeting through the night.

‘Why?’, Nines wonders. He knows he has a certain aura about him that is  
very unapproachable to some, but Connor has never seemed to have an issue handling him before, whether he was secretly uncomfortable around Nines or not. It never stopped him from being himself before, had it?

Maybe, he’d been putting up a front- Nines didn’t know him as well as he assumed, after all.  
Aside from all that, however, there’s the soft, fleeting looks Connor has been giving them, and his unusual clumsiness- both are questionable.

There’s one option, but it feels like it’s a bit reaching. Despite Nines’ doubt if this were any other situation, though, this option  
seems to fit, curiously enough.

He reviews everything, fills in a few more gaps, and now he’s sure of it.

Nines has an interesting understanding of what’s happening here. Even lacking some key details, it’s all really quite obvious. It’s a good thing nothing surprises him, he reasons.

Nines doesn’t linger any longer- he turns away, expecting Connor to follow.

He does, wetting his lips and trailing behind him like a stray lamb.

“What do you suggest we make?” He says with a bit more confidence than he’d been expressing a minute ago. Another front?

“If you don’t mind being put to work, tilapia.”

“You serious, Ni?” Hank says, perking up from the couch.  
“I thought you were saving that for our, uh... for later.”

“I think tonight is a special enough occasion, don’t you? We certainly have good company.” Nines hums.

Yet, Hank seems as confused by Nines’ choice as Connor does- it’s not a quick meal, for one, and a bit ‘elegant’ for the older man’s tastes. A special dinner for a special date, then, Connor thinks.

Hank looks over at him and promptly shuts his mouth when they lock eyes.

“Yeah, definitely, I mean... It’s the best kind of company, so...” He says awkwardly, but his hesitance only stems from his confusion.

Nines is content enough with that and sets to work. Hank doesn’t know what the look he gave him meant, but he turns back to the tv to try and mind his own business before he reads too far into things.

Connor, however, feels anything but at ease. When he’s sure Hank won’t notice, he leans in and whispers in a voice too soft for him to hear-  
“I don’t want to intrude, Nines. If this is for a special occasion-“

“It was my suggestion.” Nines doesn’t out him and graciously whispers back. The small kindness makes Connor think a little harder about how close they’re standing, unable to help himself from enjoying any soft moment Nines unknowingly shares with him.  
“And yes, I intended to prepare the fish myself as a... treat.”

Connor can draw his own conclusions- he knows this was meant to be personal. What he doesn’t understand is why Nines is hesitating to say as much.

He’d never restrained himself for someone else’s sake before, certainly not Connor’s, but why he felt the need to be wary talking about his relationship in front of Connor was....troublesome. Considering Hank has been extremely lax about it so far.

Nines hadn’t picked up on anything Connor was trying to keep quiet, had he?

No. Definitely not.

He wouldn’t be sparing Connor simple mercies if he thought the other was harboring a secret crush on his boyfriend. He’d be wrapping a wire around his neck and garroting him, is what he’d be doing.

Connor thinks he’s about to have his first android-equivalent anxiety attack before the nights over.

He fumbles around the kitchen, trying not to step on Nines’ shoes and complicate the process. It’s plenty big enough for the two of them, but Connor feels like he’s always in the way no matter where he stands.

Despite him claiming he’d be put to work, Nines has been handling most everything by himself- from cleaning the fish, to oiling the skillet and frying it. Probably because it was supposed to be for a special occasion, and Connor’s presence there is ruining that.

Nines said he wasn’t overstepping, but he’s done little to let Connor prove himself useful. He thinks better than saying so, of course. He’s felt like a burden on the taller android since he’d hopped in Hank’s car.

If Nines agrees with that, though, he’s doing a great job of hiding it.

Connor supposes that unlike him, when Nines has a goal in mind, he doesn’t work with inadequacy, and wouldn’t be settled with snippets of his feelings constantly coming poking through a sad facade. Like Connor...

Nines completes the recipe in perfect timing and plates the tilapia, putting on the finishing touches, and finally acknowledges Connor’s presence there since they’d first started.  
“Oh, Connor, I have thirium here. You’re welcome to it.”

Connor pulls a knife and fork out of a drawer and reaches for a napkin- Not that Hank’s likely to use it.

The thought of drinking from the same thirium Nines uses to supply himself after sex and maintenance both repulses and excites him. Connor nearly shudders.

“You’ll have to use one of our cups for it- it’s in bag form. The individual cartons take up too much space.”

“In my empty ass fridge.” Hank mumbles, knowing they’ll be able to hear it. They’ve clearly fussed with each other about this before.

Nines ignores him, turning his eyes on Connor who’s struggling to find a ‘thank you’ appropriate enough to fit past his inferiority complex without sounding like such a meager offer flatters him as much as it does. Coming from Nines, though, Connor is much too affected by it.

Nines doesn’t break their gaze, but his eyes look unusually dull in the kitchen light- Connor being used to them stabbing at him like knives.  
“You should leave your mug over here, so you’ll have your own container.” He says as he squeezes a lemon over the tilapia.

Connor is suddenly very interested in the table cloth. He knows which mug Nines means.

Is he calling him out? Is he mad that Hank gave him that?

Why does Nines want to keep ahold of it- he must be mad. Whatever he’s picked up of Connor’s feelings, he must know Hank would never return them.

It was just a gift between friends, no matter how Connor feels about it. He must know Connor doesn’t intend to... to ‘act’ on it.

No amount of desperation could...

Connor tries not to think too hard about this. He has enough self-awareness to know he’s got a habit of overshooting things and could easily be misreading this.

But, if he’s not... Connor doesn’t want to lose what little piece of Hank he has left.

Connor doesn’t know when he’d started to roll over like a lame dog for his successor, but he can’t let Nines have this- not his special Valentine’s mug.

“That’s alright.” He says cautiously, blinking away a warning in his peripheral. He doesn’t think Hank’s presence here can protect him any longer.  
“I... replenished myself this morning.”

The taller man snorts and moves past him to wash his hands.  
“You sound like Hank. You should keep your reserves at maximum. You’ll run more efficiently that way. I’ve noticed your movements have been a bit stilted tonight.”

Connor’s pump pulses. He wonders if Hank has seen the ‘difference’, too- however Nines means that. What else has he noticed?

Hank makes a small, interested sound from the sofa and then leans over the armrest to catch Connor’s attention.  
“Yeah, you are a little stiff, bud. I used to think you were always kinda stiff, until I met Nines here. Now I got something to compare ya to.”

Nines cocks his head, deadpan look on his face. Hank gestures as if to prove his point.

Connor‘s not sure how to feel about them keeping tabs on him all night and silently curses himself for giving two detectives a thread to pick at when he wasn’t careful.

“Hey, so that day you came into work looking shit-faced and like you’d just ran a mile- was that because you’d let your reserves get low?” Hank wonders aloud.

Connor knows exactly what day he’s referring to and feels horribly embarrassed. That was not because of low reserves, although they were low at the time, and that certainly didn’t helped.

It was actually because of a rough night he’d had, of a rough day, of a rough week. He’d caught Hank and Nines’ ‘harmless’ flirting blossom for the first time into actual touching. Nines helped him up from the ground after they’d taken cover, and the two remained holding hands for 11 seconds- one millisecond longer than Connor could physically handle.

That turned into a frustrating night of fisting his own cock and wishing it was Hank’s hand instead- leaving him heavy with guilt in the aftermath. That was also  
the night he’d realized how far he’d finally fallen.

Connor suddenly feels disoriented and as close as he’s able to come to feeling nauseous.  
“Yes... that was it... I... I’m certainly at my worst like that, it seems.”

“Then drink.” Nines insists, standing behind him and setting the table. If he put in this much effortless-effort, then Hank was going to eat at the table.

Nines left Connor to choose for himself about the thirium, moving on to put the pan in the sink.

Connor decided that if tv time was over and dinner was starting, it would soon be nearing bedtime, and Connor really didn’t want to stay long enough to give an awkward goodbye, while the pair slowly inched closer towards the bedroom.

He was wrong. Connor could come much closer to feeling nauseous than he originally thought.

“Actually, I... I think I should go-“

“Hank, come sit. I want to tell you about the adventure I had today after lunch.”

Connor shut his mouth. He knew Nines didn’t make a habit of interrupting people. If he wasn’t interested, he usually let them wear themselves out while he stared blankly ahead. A few minutes of talking to Nines’ dead-shark-stare was fairly effective at ending a conversation. Tonight, however, he’d interrupted Connor several times, and all the other android could reasonably assume was that he should try and keep his mouth shut.

Slowly, Connor takes a seat at the table after Hank scoots in and is denied a beer.

“Not with guests over.” Nines says. Connor could hardly count for a ‘guest’- he was Hank’s best friend. Either Nines was trying to erase his identity to Hank, or he wanted everyone to sit there on edge for the rest of dinner while he made them behave to his benefit. Neither was preferable.

Hank shakes his head, probably wanting to revisit that argument about making his own choices, but somewhat obeys. He’s going to have a beer after he finishes his water, and that’s final.

“Alright, warden. What was this ‘adventure’ of yours?”

“Don’t chew and talk, you’ll bite your tongue.”

“And you complained about Connor being motherly...”

Nines crosses his arms and leans over the table, clearly unaffected. Connor half expected him to stay standing over  
them like a gargoyle. He’s determined to look as pleasant as one can while under the threat of opening his mouth in the wrong way.

“Well, you’ll be as interested as I was to know that Detective Reed confessed to eating one of my chocolates, today.”

“No shit?” Hank doesn’t ask what Nines told him about it. Gavin has been shooting them curious looks for weeks, now, and Hank knew it was only a matter of time before he put to and to together, like Connor had. Nines was his partner, after all.

“He took one from my desk after I returned from lunch with them. Apparently, it never crossed his mind that they might have thirium in them.”

Nines recalled the fuss Gavin made in the car on the way to the station, as he mocked Gavin for being so brainless.

‘You ph’ckers look so real! I forget sometimes you aren’t people, Jesus...’

Nines didn’t correct him with the term ‘human’- androids _were_ people. But, he knew what Gavin meant.

Though, after the quite telling events of tonight and his new revelation about Connor, Nines began to wonder something he hadn’t at the time.

He looked at Connor, chin tilted forward. It made his eyes look less foreboding when they were hidden from the light, but Connor still suppressed a shiver.

“I didn’t even notice that one was missing,” He’d been running on a bit of a head rush after the fact that Hank had just given him his first present. Specifically a romantic one.

“I don’t know what possessed Gavin to confess to it, now, Valentine’s Day was weeks ago. But, it does make me think- I wish that I’d have saved one for you.” Nines says looking pointedly at Connor.

Connor’s eyes go wide, his composure melting away. He twitches in his seat, struggling to keep Nines’ gaze.

He... _wished_ he’d have given _him_ a... chocolate?

Connor blinks- it feels like such a random confession that he thinks he’d just imagined hearing it, but one look at Hank  
proves it to be all too real.

He’s nodding along, stuffing another bite in his mouth.  
“Yeah, I thought about getting you some, too, but you seemed to really like that skunk mug, so...” He scratched the back of his neck, eyes on the table.

Connor looks helplessly between them,  
not sure how he’s supposed to suppress the stutter in his pump at hearing such a proclamation come from the mouths of the two objects of his most confusing affections.

They wished they had offered him chocolates on Valentine’s Day?.... What was he supposed to do with this information- besides panic. Hank was one thing entirely, no, scratch that. Hank was everything.

But, was _Nines_ serious?

Connor can feel himself blushing, and that only makes it worse. Nines’ stare is unwavering.

“You think Con would have liked one?” Hank asks, turning to Nines.

Connor nearly blurts out ’Why?’, why would they even say something like that when there was so many implications there that they couldn’t mean. But, Nines’ eyes are pinning Connor to his seat and keeping his mouth shut.

Something uncomfortably warm settles over him- a bizarre sort of energy buzzing around his skull and making his pump feel as if it might beat right out of his chest when Nines begins to speak.

“I think neither of us are a good judge of what Connor likes. But, I certainly enjoyed them- For more reasons than just you two picking them.”

Hank furrows his brow, trying to process this, taking a moment to dig under the not so subtle layer there, as Connor goes totally blank, aware Nines is gauging him. Hank shoots a quizzical look over at him, but the android offers no explanation.

Connor has no doubt this is a test of some kind, and his pump is threatening to burst. He should have known Nines would find out sooner or later that he was hiding something, but he wonders what actually gave him away.

His own nerves? The slightly defensive attitude he’d been failing to keep under wraps the whole night when Nines was around? Maybe he was just more obvious than he thought.

What he really doesn’t understand is why he isn’t being ‘punished’ for it. Yet.

Nines has short of a thousand reasons to, ranging from Connor sitting quietly through Gavin flapping his gums earlier, talking about Hank ‘charming the panties off’ of him- which he had definitely heard him say- to realizing Connor has been harboring secret feelings of some kind for them, sneaking around right under his nose.

Did Nines know that it was ‘them’, or did he think it was just Hank?

Had he seen the way Connor‘d been staring at his throat earlier?

To be fair, Connor’s relationship with the feelings he has for Nines is a confusing, dysfunctional one as it is- it’s possible he doesn’t know the part about his feelings for him.

But, he has no way of being sure what exactly Nines‘ has picked up on, and chooses not to assume anything. Either was a torturous thought, but Connor really hoped in a twisted sort of way that everything was just out there now, so he wouldn’t have to relive another terrifying discovery later. He could hardly handle this one.

Connor thinks if he spends one more second of his short life thinking about what-if’s and waiting for the unsightly outcome, he’s going to short out and self-destruct. It makes him think about how Hank would use to drink too much to reach a morbid means to an end and thinks this form of psychological destruction isn’t terribly different. He’s wasting away from the horrors he’s created for himself- painting Nines out to be some kind of steel eyed demon, and Hank to be his unrequited Aphrodite.  
Which is completely complicated now by the fact that Nines had just unironically said he’d wished he done something honest and nice for him. As had Hank.

That in mind, Connor would rather chuck his pump across the room than explore any of that at Hank’s dinner table with his ‘executioner’ sitting across from him right now. He needed to be alone to process all of this before he let his brain twist and distort it. It likely would anyway.

There was one way out of here, but it would leave him with even more problems come the morning. He takes in the pair of eyes watching him bounce and wiggle  
in his seat and thinks ‘so be it’.

“I-It’s getting late.” Connor forces out, and Nines holds his gaze unblinkly. However, the slim trace of a smile on his face Connor hadn’t noticed before begins to slip.

It was dark outside, and it’d been so for a while, now, but the timing  
couldn’t be more suspicious. He was acting like a trapped animal.

“I should... I should go home.” He says to Hank, because he’s easier to look at. He can feel the flush in his face spread down towards his collar.

‘Home’ was not an apartment. It was everything Connor had hoped  
this place would be someday. A big, slobbering pup following him around while he tidied Hank’s home a bit. The bigger man yelling through the thin walls whenever he stepped on a wet sock or pair of boxers Sumo’d gotten ahold of. Connor imagined tramping barefoot  
through the kitchen and living room, carefully carting a mug of fresh coffee for Hank to grab, while Sumo tangled between their legs, vying for their attention.

Sumo was a ball of excitement when Connor had first met him, trailing close behind wherever he went and even whining when it was time for him to leave.

Connor would miss being missed when this was all over, but he knew his sudden escape wouldn’t be well received, judging by the looks he was already getting.

Nines had gone very quiet and, if Connor didn’t know better, looked a little taken aback by it.

There’s just too much for him to make sense of right now for Connor to carry the conversation, and he needs to leave. He needs to make sense of this somewhere private, because right now his circuits feel totally fried between his hot face and the literal gears in his head whirring themselves to exhaustion.

He knows he’s reading things wrong between them and he’s still just struggling to understand why Nines is handling this new information about his feelings so ‘well’- and, why he isn’t _outing_ him.

Has Hank already picked up on something, too? Are they teasing him?

No, he needs to think first- he’s not up to his normal speed under pressure like this. Which is infuriating in its own way when he’s able to stand proudly against the perils and stress of bullet wounds, deranged convicts, and Gavin on a daily basis.

“Uh, you sure?” Hank mumbled. They’d only just started dinner and Connor wanted to go.

Nines looked none too pleased by this announcement, either- lips quirking down in a scowl.

“I, yes, I’m sorry. I haven’t, I -“ Connor abruptly cuts off, distracted by Nines shooting a look over at Hank. The older man returns it, and Connor can’t make head or tails of it- only that they didn’t look particularly put out with him, per say. More like disappointed and... something else  
Connor must be imagining things.

Hank looks back and sees Connor fidget in his seat and tries to reel it back a bit. Just because he wasn’t ready for Connor to leave, didn’t mean he wanted to get him worked up about it. Connor was a creature of empathy and prone to his guilt trips in a similar way that Hank was. Only Connor was just too generous for his own good.

“Yeah, uh, ok. It is late, isn’t it?” Hank said and smiled, a small but welcoming thing that had Connor feeling a terrible guilt in his chest again that he was abandoning him.

Connor’s simulated blush was bordering on blue, now.  
“I enjoyed it... I’ve just been putting off stasis for a while.”

Hank tries to look understanding while Nines fights the barest hint of amusement from his face.

“Yeah, I did kind of spring it on you today, huh? It’s cool.” Hank shrugs.

“Thank you for joining us this evening, Connor.” Nines says, standing from the table with a hand out in an offer to walk Connor to the door. Pleasantries aren’t his forte, but Nines isn’t about to add to his astounding failure here tonight.

He _knows_ he isn’t wrong about Connor, he knows he’s read everything right, and this news about his predecessor is going to demand a greater emphasis on his attention to him if he hopes to loosen him up enough- especially now that his attempts to get somewhere with it has only ended up running him off.

The last thing he wanted was to put a damper on Hank’s happiness by scaring off the one friend he has he actually cares about- more than cares. In Nines only defense, he hadn’t imagined bold, brazen Connor would turn away from a head on attempt.

He wished more than ever he had the social cues Connor developed so easily after deviancy- he wants them more than when Hank first started showing an interest in him and Nines struggled to see it. At least with Hank he hadn’t shied away from Nines’ forwardness and explained to him when he’d fucked up  
something if he did, as did Gavin in his own special way. Connor, however, was trying to flee at the first sign of ‘danger’.

Was he just put off by Nines? Was Connor shy?

No, it was more complicated than all of that. Nines miscalculated something somewhere.

“It’s been very enlightening.” He says slowly, lost in his own head and sounding a little manual.

Connor feels a chill run over him, though he’s no longer receiving the vibe that he’s overstayed his welcome here. If anything he feels like he’s missing something important.

He smiles as pleasantly as he can, though it feels painful and forced, and Nines must notice as he doesn’t return it. He only steps aside to let Hank say his goodbyes so he can hide his frustration with himself by finding something to occupy him.

He’d seen Connor hold up exceptionally well under stress, life or death scenarios especially. Nines admired that he chose to stay in a high stress, high risk job like this after establishing his sentience. With deviation came a new appreciation  
for self preservation, but Connor had still chosen to stay a cop- clearly he hadn’t feared the mortality rate.

Here he was, though, obviously trying to make the escape he’d been planning all evening- excluding their peaceful time on the couch- all because Nines had pushed a little hard. He was built for success, to adapt and conquer... yet, Connor seems to be his first real challenge.

He lets Hank have his time alone with him so he can mull things over. It will certainly make his attempt trickier the next time, and it’s imperative Nines takes time to decide a new course of action and adjust to it. It’s probably rude he isn’t there to see him off, but Nines isn’t known for his good manners.

His bluntness is a part of him, even Connor knows that, but he seems to be... intimidated by it- at least in this context.

Nines doesn’t stray far, though, lost in his thoughts about the unfortunate blunder he’d made of this evening. One thing at a time, perhaps. He needs to get his foot in the door before he starts exploring the confusing bouts of arousal Connor‘d been displaying towards them. Next time, he would definitely not do any forward flirting over chocolates...

He hears them talk in low murmurs in a way that makes it clear Nines company in fact was the reason for Connor’s discomfort during his stay. He isn’t surprised... but he is becoming steadily more frustrated.

He tries to focus on what they’re saying instead of that, as he leaves to stand somewhere down the hallway. The last thing he needs to do right now is think about his place in all this, and start getting himself... confused.  
He’s got a plan and he needs to focus his attention there.

“You should come back soon.” Hank says, nudging Connor’s shoulder.  
“We haven’t hung out in a while.”

Connor agrees, but feels like he’s just going through the motions. His processors are unbearably sluggish- ever since Nines put an arm around him.

“Absolutely, Hank. I’ve certainly missed it.”  
Yet, he’s still here trying to make a break for it.

Connor wants to say something comforting- he hasn’t struggled to be his usual reassuring self before, but now he’s not sure what he can say after  
the events of tonight. And, Nines has even removed himself from their company.

“Maybe you can come to my apartment next time.” He mumbles, clasping his hands together.

For a while there, he’d expected Hank’s company to be a sure thing. He bothered to get someplace with a bathroom and a fridge, assuming Hank would be using it. Obviously, that hadn’t turned out well.

Connor doesn’t actually expect Hank to take him up on it. It’s just an out for Nines if anything, as Connor won’t be intruding in his space there.

Only Hank looks like he’s actually considering it.

Down the hallway Nines perks up. That is a much better idea- Connor will feel safer in his own house. He’ll have security and space if he needs it, and Hank and Nines will be there on his terms.

Yes, he agrees with this. It’s bound to produce the most results. Nines has no problem arranging the times, but knows it’ll be best for Hank to initiate that conversation, as Connor had technically passed the invitation to him. Good, Nines can work with this.

Now, there’s just the matter of the long, painful talk he needs to have with Hank.

Connor leaves after that without even telling Sumo bye. He’s anxious about Nines’ absence, presuming he’s made a bigger mess for himself come their next shift together than he knows. But, right now he just needs to focus on sitting through a ride in an auto-taxi in a state of extreme bewilderment without letting his mind run wild.

The more distance he puts between himself and Nines, the easier it is for Connor to lose touch with the reality of things. He realizes his violent fantasies have become a crutch with which he uses to escape, to keep from thinking about the truths that are much harder for him to accept- That Hank and Nines probably don’t spare a single thought about him once he’s gone. That once it’s just the two of them, Hank forgets he has a best friend he used to spend every weekend with.

It’s easier to believe that Nines is Connor’s nightmare man, bent on seeking his demise, than it is to believe the two men barely remember he exists when he’s not around.

Connor officially decides to set an appointment up with Josh to tap into whatever wires he’s gotten mixed up post deviancy that’s made him throwout all rationality. At the point he can exist happily being someone else’s punching bag, even if it’s only in his head, it’s clear he needs some serious work done on him.

He needs to remind himself realistically that while tonight could have gone better, it hadn’t been bad. He made it weird, but Hank showed the utmost patience with him. Sumo enjoyed his stay there, and... Nines was quite cordial with him.

Despite what he knows to be true, the closer Connor gets to home, the closer he comes to breaching the final threshold. He’s held it back as long as he can, but with the space between them growing and the street he lives on coming into view, his resolve begins to crumble.

What he really wants to think about right now isn’t that weird instance with the chocolate, or Nines’ insistence to get him to Hank’s house in the first place. It’s not how nice he’d been around Connor, since it could have been a front for Hank’s sake. What he really wants to think about are the things Connor tries his dearest not to give in to. Things much less forgivable than having this no-longer-secret crush of his or his violent daydreams.

What he wants to think about is how close Hank had come to touching his hand at his side. How close their shoulders were when they bumped and their knees pressed together. Connor had never come that close to having their sides nearly flush together, not in a long time. And then Nines with his arm around him- there was no imaging that. Nines had touched him. That was real.

Maybe he didn’t mean to get all cozy with it like Hank had when Connor leaned into it, but it had happened.

Connor swallows excess fluid gathering in the back of his throat, a peculiar reflex he has to analyzing a situation. His mouth floods, waiting for Connor to deposit evidence inside, even when there is none. It’s become quite an embarrassing feature of his when he observes the swell in Hank’s jeans or the length of Nines’ legs.

Ra9, how could he have let himself lean in like that, though?

Connor wrings his hands together.

Of all the moments to get tangled up in his head, that was the by far the worst timing.

But... when Nines had told him to stay, when he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Connor’s arm, that was intentional. Nines didn’t do anything he didn’t mean to.

These are the last kinds of things he needs to be thinking about right now with his vivid tendency to romanticize things and twist them, but there’s only one way he can stop it.

Connor steps out of the auto-cab in a daze, beginning the short journey up the stairs of his complex.

Nines was quite hospitable to him to his surprise. It couldn’t last, of course. Connor had to remind himself that Nines was just playing good host- ignoring how  
unaccustomed to that kind of social programming as Nines was for the sake of the argument.

It was just a show, Connor insisted, because that’s all it could logically be. Right?

He hurried inside and put his keys on the key ring beside the door. The place was barren- his apartment made up of pale blues and stark whites with nothing in the way of decor making it feel almost clinical. He wasn’t particularly opposed to that, he’d never had any specific connection to himself and his personal environment, but it wasn’t like he could ignore how much happier he’d be if he were in Hank’s house, again- to stay this time.

He tried not to stare at the goofy little skunk mug he had sitting untouched in the middle of his kitchen table, as he moved on towards the bedroom. Everything was a tight fit, the rooms small and drab.

When he was locked away in his little bedroom, too wound up to even think about his crazy ‘neighbors’ surrounding him on either side, and the darkness seeping through the blinds, Connor was finally well and truly alone with his thoughts.

It wasn’t the kind that were spurred by anger, or envy, or yearning- the ones that carved Nines out to be this viscous, spiteful thing of inhuman force.

These thoughts were the ones pushed so far back in the depths of Connor’s subconscious they rarely saw the light. They existed as the heart from which those jealous, brutal fantasies of his were born from.

His most private, most indulgent, most sinful thoughts.

Frustratingly, there was only one way to silence them.

Connor bit his bottom lip, shuffling to the edge of his mattress, and put a hand on his abdomen.

He could feel his pump beating hard. His hand slid down, over the dip of his navel to the little swell the button of his jeans rested on.

He knew it was wrong, but Connor needed this. He wouldn’t be able to think straight if he didn’t get this out of the way.

The first thought to make him push his heated palm down the top of his  
jeans and into his boxers was of Nines, making Connor shiver.

That arm he had resting over the top of the couch, touching Connor’s shoulders. The smaller android imagined it moving down to wrap around his waist and pull, bringing Connor right into Nines’ side.

God, he was so small beneath him. Nines was so much more than him.

‘You’re fine right here.’ He murmurs in Connor’s ear, and this time, it’s close enough to push a huff of hot air inside that’s been stirring in Nines’ chassis.

Connor shudders and shakes, but he doesn’t try to pull away. Even when Nines’ other hand reaches over his lap and grabs the thickest part of his thigh and _squeezes_.

Connor’s head lolls back as he grabs himself there, stuffing his other hand the rest of the way into his jeans and falling back onto the bed to allow himself more room. His fingertips brush the bulge of his swelling cock, just over the top.

“Mm!”

These thoughts were too kind, the epitome of the unrequited love he didn’t deserve. But, Connor was only human and only so strong.

‘You’re fine right here, too.’ Nines purrs as he lifts Connor up with ease, strong and unyielding, and pulls him into his lap.

He has Connor’s back against his chest, facing away from him, so that he can undo the button on his jeans, and Connor feeds the fantasy- popping the button over the hand brushing his cock so it can move freely.

He skips a few steps in his eagerness so that Nines already has Connor’s cock out for him and is stroking it from root to tip. His hand wraps around it so easily, slender fingers skimming the tip, feeling him out. Nines purrs right in his ear, again, and this time it’s to praise Connor for having such a proud, sturdy cock- perfect for stroking.

Connor wishes Nines would pull his pants down far enough that he can grind his bare ass against him, but, even in his most indulgent, most sweetest dreams, Nines is not kind in this way.

Connor can only groan in frustration, fisting himself a bit rougher.

Another pair of hands join Nines’ gentle ministrations, cupping Connor’s leaking cock head and rubbing a thumb over the tip, gathering the bead of slick there.

“Oh! Hank!” Connor’s moans helplessly. He strokes harder, his other hand balling up his button down and clutching it in a death grip against his chest. He doesn’t have the extra set of hands he needs, and he’s never known a pair other than his own, but he’s able to push away the unsatisfying feeling he often gets when he realizes that Hank’s hands are very different than his own in order to complete the fantasy.

Nines’ hands, however, are exactly the same as his, if a bit wider. That is about the only thing that can fill Connor‘s preconstruction enough to finish when his thoughts build up to this point, and Connor milks that bit for all it’s worth.

Nines’ hand goes loose around his cock, fingers trailing down the underside and drawing little whimpers from the other android. He’s teasing him, much to Connor’s fake dismay. He _loves_ it.

Nines pushes a kiss into Connor’s throat, close to his neck port, and murmurs something Connor’d admit is very unlike him to say.

Nines would never call him _that_.

His desperation is ruining the fantasy.

Then, again, Nines would never be this careful with him, either. Hank would never have these kinds of feelings for him, and he’d never find himself in this position.  
He wishes he could make these thoughts go away without having to do... this... but it was just necessary. They wouldn’t just plague him otherwise- though, he was always left feeling lonelier than before.

He forces himself into stasis after he comes, because he can’t handle this  
guilt on top of another lonely night- thinking about his heart throbs falling asleep together in each other’s arms. He’ll process what happened tonight and the confounding things they’d said later. Right now, it’s just too much for him to think.

////////////://::::

Hank watched Connor go. As soon as the door shut, he heard Nines emerge from his hiding place.

Hank turned and found him standing there with his usual stony facade, but he knew Nines perfectly well enough to recognize that look.

‘Troubled’.

He’d seen it quite a few times before, and Nines had insisted each time that he was ‘fine’ to no satisfaction of Hank’s conscience.

He tossed his hair from his face with a hand and searched for the right words to break the silence. They stood comfortably in one another’s company with only the sound of Sumo lapping around his water bowl for a while before Hank found his courage.

“Well... that was something.”

“Hm.” Nines clasped his hands together behind his back. It was clear they were both expecting Connor to stay a little longer, but there was something much more pressing on Hank’s mind at the moment then Connor’s early departure.

“...What was that about, Ni?”

“I assume you mean the part about me singling Connor out for helping choose my Valentine’s?”

“No.” Though, that was something else entirely for Hank to pick at.  
“No, I mean about... not knowing him very well.”

Hank looked stiff. Nines knew that the conversation ahead was only going to make matters worse for him, as he’d always struggled to talk about these kinds of things. The most he could do was cushion the blow and add a little light to the situation.

Nines dipped his chin, eyes trained on the shadows Hank’s hair casted along his face. He needed to get it cut soon, if he didn’t want it to curl at his shoulders. Though now, Nines might have some leverage to get him to tie it back, finally.

“You‘re so dramatic.” He said for the sixth time, and it was enough to loosen Hank’s shoulders, and make him want to close the distance, offering him some familiarity.

He returned Nines’ cheeky grin, getting an arm around his neck when he was close enough to pull him into a hug. The android moved easily enough, standing toe to toe with the man with his hands around his thick waist.

“ _You’re_ dramatic- being all cryptic and shit. I know Connor better than my own “only because of opposing political views and a mutual stubbornness.”

Hank smiled despite himself. Nines watched his hand, large as it is, fail to grab more than a handful of Hank’s girth, and quickly reprimanded himself for getting distracted during such a crucial conversation.

“You simply do not know Connor as well as you think.”

“Hmph.” Hank pulled out of his grasp, dropping his hand down Nines’ back to feel around the hard ‘muscle’ there.  
“I’ve known him since the uprising. He’s known me since the anniversary of...” Hank felt heavy all at once.

Nines knew what, of course, but Hank had thought he’d be better at talking about it by now.

A hand groping around his waist and another rubbing up his arm brought him back to the moment. Nines was there to ground him, ever the anchor in his life. It was enough for Hank to blink away the pressure building in his head and continue.

“Uh, anyway... Connor’s been there for every crazy thing after that. And, I’m sure he’d like to forget some of that shit. I was a wreck for a while there, Ni. I’m glad you’ll never see me like that- how much worse I used to be- But, it means you don’t know all the details about us.”

Nines is quiet, because while all of that is true, it’s still not the truth about Connor. There is most certainly some things they don’t know about each other.

Hank predictably arches a brow at his silence, but he’s slowly becoming more curious as to why Nines is pushing this.

Hank continues, keenly aware that Nines is keeping something from him.

”I also know every weird fuckin’ thing that guy has gotten himself into after his deviancy, and some of that shit really shook some boundaries.”

Really made it impossible not to know Connor better.

Like when he’d grown a spine one day and chucked Hank’s keys into the nearest body of water when he tried to drunk drive. Also the time he forced Hank to listen to his awful pop music by blaring it like Hank had done all those times to him with his metal shit- even locking the car doors. (What sort of monster had he created.)

Hank had been there to see Connor go through horrible fashion phases with lots of cartoon dogs on everything- even keeping some critical documents in folders with the awful print at work.

And, if Hank wants to get deep about it and prove his point to himself, he’s even been there for Connor to ‘casually’ admit to having some violent, upsetting dreams of pet ownership where his poor pet suffers his ‘robotic’, improper treatment of them. Hank is sure Connor hadn’t meant to tell him as much as he had when he stared off like that and spoke with that hitch in his voice, but he’d definitely noticed how bad it’d hurt him. Hank did his research and figured as best as he could that it was a rather common fear some deviants had when making the transition to ‘humanhood’- worrying about mortality, and the inability to provide the appropriate levels of love and care for their organic counterparts.

How could Hank not know Connor well enough when he’d heard the scrape in his voice when he’d confessed to having that dream again, and again- that haunting dream- while trying to hide his face behind a hand.

However, even if Hank took the time to say all that, he’s sure Nines is going to continue looking unimpressed and keep pressing this, because Hank is sure now that he knows something.

“You know everything then?” Nines carefully asks.

Hank looks away and shrugs.  
“Well, yeah... I know what his fears are, and his dreams for the future. I know his favorite color.” He answers vaguely.  
“I know his favorite band is some goofy electric-pop shit I’m under oath not tell anyone about.”

Nines opens his mouth and without any warning, the hand Hank’s wrapped around his waist tightens and pulls, swinging him onto Hank’s hips so that he can lead them towards the kitchen in an odd shuffling soft of slow dance.

Amused, Nines comes along, resisting the urge to make Hank drag him the whole way there like a lead weight. His newer model is a little over 10 pounds lighter than his predecessor’s, but it’d still give Hank a hell of a fight to lift the dead weight. It’s very tempting.

Hank continues droning on while Nines is forced to follow.

“I know that the first upgrade he ever installed after deviancy left him with weak ankles.” Which was more of a fun fact he found amusing than an actual point to his argument.

Nines is definitely not surprised by that. The first upgrade Connor installed was a plain walk cycle to make his movements less disjointed looking. It wasn’t noticeable as the flare ups only lasted during the initial installment. But, it explained him colliding into Hank’s back at the end of a stairwell that one time at a scene.

It’s becoming increasingly hard not to find these useless tidbits of his predecessor endearingly human in the way Nines finds them so in Hank. He didn’t know he could find small inadequacies in an android endearing, for that matter.

Nines lets Hank move him with one big hand on his hip and the other in Nines’, leading them forward. He slides his only free hand down to grab a handful of Henry’s backside in retaliation, earning him a grunt.

“These are all superficial discoveries, dear.”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you the secret shit. There’s a lot more to Connor than the ‘superficial’ stuff. _Obviously_.”

“Yes, I’m incredibly aware.” Nines murmurs.

Hank is open minded- very, very open minded. And, with the right facts, can be persuaded even. But, this is something that requires a bit more care than Nines would normally address it with. He couldn’t just state what had become painfully clear to him and mold Hank’s view of it without putting Connor’s livelihood at stake.

Hank looks at him expectantly, because Nines’ arched brow and the exhausted look on his face tell his lover a lot more than he’d meant to in his silence.

“Alright, Ni... Out with it. What do you know that I don’t?”

Nines sighs through his nose.

Maybe Hank already does know and is choosing to ignore it. Nines can admit that’s precisely what he’s been ‘afraid’ of in all this.

“C’mon. What’s got you making that face for, honey?”

“My face looks the same.”

“Your light’s yellow.”

Yes, Nines supposes that is very unlike him.

He almost rather keep it a mystery, but there’s no turning back from here. It’s clear he has something he wants to say and Hank will work it out of him one way or another. He almost wishes he was irresponsible enough to make Hank work it out of him the ‘fun’ way.

They stop their awkward slow dance at the kitchen table where there’s still the mess of Hank’s dinner to clean up. Nines looks at him with piercing eyes, eyes he doesn’t often turn on him like this, but...

“Connor seems different, doesn’t he? When it’s all of us together, he’s a bit more tense. Don’t you think?”

Hank seems to consider it, but he’s... subjective. He’s always thought Connor was a bit of a dork and a little shaky at expressing his feelings sometimes. His willingness to be outgoing and talkative sort of cover up the fact until you get to know him.

Besides, Hank himself was a big ass mess, so who was he to judge?

He knows there’s a point Nines is trying to make, though, so he’s placates him in order to dig it out of him.

“Well, why do you think that is?”

“I think Connor is experiencing an... emotional attachment of sorts-“ No, that’s not precise enough.

Nines should tread lightly here, but he does so hate talking in circles.  
“An infatuation.”

And, there it was.

Nines doesn’t say infatuated with ‘who’, because the way Hank sets his jaw as he stares back is rather telling. Nines lifts his chin.

Hank is seriously conflicted on how to answer that. Did he suspect? At one time, yes, he had. Quite recently, in fact. But, it’s not something worth entertaining, and Nines must know that. He must know that Hank loves him.

And, he knows Nines does, so-

“Are you jealous?”

Logically, Nines shouldn’t be. He’s ‘better’ than Connor. He’s also the man in Hank’s life, the one he’s chosen to be with.

But, it’s why Hank chose him in the first place that gives Nines his doubts.

He’s pushed it away as best as he can, but it‘s hard not to wonder everytime  
Connor’s eyes go all fluttery whenever he looks Hank’s way, or when their shoulders bump, if Hank really doesn’t see it- doesn’t see that he wants Connor.

Nines knows it’s why Hank showed an interest in him. He had most of Connor’s face and hair- his voice, save for the authoritative tone that made it sound a tad deeper. He had a few of the same spots on his face, too, and the same soft slope of his Cupid’s bow. They could be twins to the untrained eye, and Nines knows that’s how he ended up on Hank’s arm in the first place.

Maybe Nines has developed a complex of some kind, he can’t seem to file it away as anything else, but he thinks maybe he’s allowed this one instance of self-doubt when he’s been made to feel like the only reason Hank chose him at all was because he reminded him of Connor.

Nines is the closest Hank can come to being with him without losing his best friend- without the risks associated with crossing that final line.

Hank will deny it, of course.

The problem is that, yes, in a way, at the beginning, he may have seen an opportunity to have Connor without the fear of losing him in Nines. Of course, he’ll never say so.

Not that he has to, Nines isn’t stupid. Their first few interactions were confusing enough when Hank continued to show an interest in someone who was so obviously unlike the people Hank usually found appealing- friend or lover. It was suspicious. At least until Nines put two and two together- ‘Connor’ was the end goal to some extent, Connor was the thing that pushed Hank back into him every time.

Nines doesn’t get that feeling, anymore, he doesn’t feel like he’s ‘Connor’s replacement’. Hank has made painstakingly sure as they came to know one another that he understood how very different they were. He understood that Nines wasn’t Connor, and that he wasn’t like anyone else Hank had associated with before- romantically, at least. And despite that, he kept coming back, learning to love their differences.

In some ways they were similar, though they never truly quite ‘clicked’. Things like Nines’ blunt nature mixed in a strange way with Hank’s crassness. It certainly made coming to an agreement about things- finances, people, social events- interesting and effective.

They rarely disagreed on things, and there were very few instances of them having ‘trouble in paradise’, so to speak, but their attitudes forced them to work alongside two very different styles of thinking. They made it work, somehow, giving new meaning to the word ‘partnership’, and Hank knew now that Nines’ tendency to give off cold shoulders and uninterested glares at people when it was least appropriate would be sorely missed by him- the infamous grumpy bear, himself- if Nines ever changed. He loves him just the way he is.

But, the android had gone quiet for a little too long, and Hank didn’t know what to make of it. The most fitting answer was the hardest to accept.

“You are jealous.”

Nines doesn’t think that totally encompasses the emotion it elicits, but he’s straining to refute the one Hank’s chosen.

“Honey-“

“You haven’t answered my question, Hank. Connor is showing signs of having romantic feelings for you, and you’re telling me you haven’t noticed?”

Hank snorts.  
“He’s my best friend, Nines... that’s... that’s it.” He shrugs it away, but the hesitation in his voice is less than reassuring.

Hank knows that didn’t come out right, but he’s working on the spot here. Connor doesn’t like him like that- obviously. It’s not even worth talking about. Yet, he can’t seem to meet Nines’ gaze, and that’s really not helping his case.

“Nines, listen,” Hank starts, but one look at that blank, steely-eyed stare looking straight through him makes the words catch in his throat.

Hank sighs, hand threading through his hair.

“Ok, look.... Maybe, I did think so once,”  
When Connor had come to him with that Valentine’s card. That had left Hank with quite a bit to the imagination, until he came to his senses and reasoned that it wasn’t anything. It couldn’t be.

“But, there’s really nothing there.... And besides, Connor knows you and I are together- he’d never try to break us up-“

“I know that. I’m not saying he is.”

“Then whats the issue? We’re just friends!”

“The issue is that I think he still has feelings for you.”

“Ni, no, ok?” Hank huffs, a better argument alluding him at the moment. He leaves the kitchen and paces around the living room.

Nines watches, becoming less confident in his abilities as the night wears on. He stands between the two rooms with his arms behind his back, face carefully blank.

“What if he does, Lieutenant? Humor me.”

“Then it means nothing!”

“You’re being awfully defensive.”

“Yeah, because my boyfriend is accusing me of having feelings for someone else.”  
Hank threw his hands up and circled around the coffee table.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Don’t you trust _me_? I’m programmed to interpret body language, as well as-“

“Nines, baby! It’s nothing”

‘Nothing’, Nines’ firm, metal ass.

Nines is stuck. He’s very stuck. He feels his throat refusing to speak the words  
that might jeopardize his relationship- his happiness. He can’t just tell Hank that he doesn’t want it to be ‘nothing’.

He knows Hank would be happier, _he would be_. He’d have the person he cares most for in the whole world besides Nines, and Nines would have...

Well, what exactly?

More of Connor gaping at the naked column of his throat with a tint to his cheeks, for one thing. That was nice- being appreciated by the original model himself.

More structurally, Connor had already proven to be capable of compassion outside of friendly affairs. In a more intimate sense, he’d been the one by Hank’s own admission to choose those chocolates for him, meaning he must have picked up on Nines’ strained relationship with his humanhood. A spectacularly sensitive topic for him, yet Connor had made no indication of it to Hank, who’d do his damndest to wrestle those kinds of negative thoughts out of him, and only took it into consideration for a gift.

He was capable of bonding to some extent, but Nines was getting ahead of himself. It was possible Connor didn’t want anything so committed with him, but rather with Hank.

Connor knew him much better than Nines expected him to and used the information for his best interests- possibly too much so, as Connor’s quiet demeanor tonight  
might actually be a detriment to himself, making him feel restricted to being polite rather than comfortable. He certainly seemed to be putting on a show for their sakes half the time.

Curious.

Hank had calmed down enough to take a seat on the couch. Sumo thumped his tail  
happily from his dog bed at Hank’s groan, making Nines’ lips tilt into a little smile. Hank couldn’t help but sigh when he saw that soft look on his face- He’d much rather be holding that face right now, than debating some impossible fantasy about his best friend with it.

“Ni...”

“Hank, can you just admit it?” Nines said suddenly, totally side blinding him, as it stirred a stark resemblance in Hank to Connor pushing Ortiz’s android to a confession.

‘Just say it! Is it that hard?‘

At the memory of Connor shoving the other around in the interrogation room, Hank remembered how thankful he was that approach to the rest of the deviant investigation was quickly forfeited, as Connor seemed to tailor himself to Hank’s preferences.

Interestingly enough...

Hank’s eyes went a little wide. **_Fuck_**.

He heard Nines sigh- the defeated kind of sigh he both loved and hated to hear, as it didn’t always mean victory.

Hank was surprised how long they’d lasted on this topic. Normally it was a swift disagreement, few as those were, and then they were turning over for bed.  
But, Nines wasn’t budging on this, and Hank was beginning to have trouble continuing to doubt him when he went on so confidently.

“You want me to just say Connor has a crush on me?... That will really make you happy, somehow?”

Nines looked off towards their bedroom, considering the likelihood of this conversation reaching another dead end.

“I would be ‘happy’ if you would consider the possibility, and....”

“And, what?”

Help him pursue the little deviant. Help him figure out what made Connor tick, help them reach a mutual understanding where Hank would ultimately end up with the best of both worlds. Nines couldn’t imagine it now, but the idea of the three of them toughing it out together sounded like the most desirable outcome to Hank’s suppressed yearning and Connor’s... well, Nines had no idea how deep Connor was waddling in all this. But, he had always wanted a better relationship with his predecessor, as their stilted conversation, detailed by tonight’s events, made it a challenge.

All he was sure of was that it wasn’t possible that he’d misread things with Hank- just as he hadn’t with Connor.  
Hank had shown an interest in his predecessor, and they’d do well to just address it and move forward. But, he knew they weren’t going to make it to that conclusion tonight. No way.

He resisted a sigh, as he went to clean the kitchen table up. Hank watched him work, almost too pissed to admire his ass.

“When do you plan on visiting Connor at his apartment.” Nines said after the dust had finally settled, and just like that, the older man was up and making his way towards the bedroom.

Nines huffed, honest to Ra9 huffed, as he’d never had to leave a disagreement with one of them unhappy, and especially both. And, Hank just had to go on and do something so outright rebellious- as if Nines hadn’t found that attractive of him, in the first place. It wasn’t when he was the one being disrespected.

He cursed in a way he’d learnt from Gavin, and fussed with himself for failing to procure any results- two separate attempts in one night, and both ending in defeat. Pathetic. First he scared away Connor by being too forward, and pissed off Hank by being too pushy.

He felt his approach to Hank was at least warranted, these things needed saying. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be dealing with the result of Hank’s disapproval later. He spent the rest of the night in the living room working on case files.

////////////://::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see a doodle copy this into your url:
> 
> https://mobile.twitter.com/fasthankconsmut/status/1236462919203905538


	5. To Err

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst and tension in this one- everything finally comes to a head.
> 
> I had the brain to do italics, finally, but not to proof read or fix the giant spaces.
> 
> I will, though, it’s an eye sore.

Connor put thinking things through like the responsible adult he’d become after thinking with his dick, and the result was a late morning out of stasis with little time to get dressed, much less to unravel the mysteries of the universe. He was up to full processing speed in .03 seconds, and yet here he was, pushing it off, again, and out of excuses for it. Every attempt to stay focused ended with Connor thinking about the moments between melting into Hank’s couch and Nines’ soft touches.

Tall, dark, and pretentious especially wasn’t giving him any peace, not inside his head. Nines and those stern eyes of his looking at Connor so curiously with every subtle move he made, drilling right through him.

Connor thinks of him the whole way to work, where he receives a more confused than angry look from Fowler for coming in late- the first time he’d ever come in later than Hank for a shift. He’d almost considered calling out for a personal day, but figured he would be diligent enough to avoid putting himself into a similar situation as yesterday- he really hoped he’d be- and decided there was no need to blow this out of proportion.

He left them last night looking rather tense, but... maybe they’d forgotten about it?

He doesn’t chance looking at anyone as he enters, ignoring the warning in the back of his head to maintain situational awareness.

To his relief, he doesn’t feel any eyes on him, either, as he slides into his desk.

Hank hardly registers that he’s there, and Connor lets himself slip into being a wallflower. Quiet and careful.

Not five minutes into work, he was sitting there on company time, thinking about the incredibly confusing state he’d left things in last night.

The soft words and earnest looks, the touch of lithe fingers and cool ‘flesh’. Hank’s blue eyes boring into him, deep, excavating every poorly concealed emotion from him with a single, fragile look.

////////////://::::   
  


‘I wish that I’d have saved one for you.’

‘I thought about getting you some, too.’

‘Do you think Connor would have liked one?’

‘I certainly enjoyed them- For more reasons than just you two picking them.’

///////::/::/::////

Connor clenched his jaw.

It was a struggle removing himself from everything- from their power over him, and the feelings they stirred up inside of him when he wasn’t even sure, yet, if they’d honestly been teasing him, or....

His only break in all the tension was the fact that the repercussions he’d expected to see this morning hadn’t come for him. Yet. But, it made Connor wonder.

Bravely, or stupidly, he lifted his head to look at Hank and take in the state of the mess he’d made.

What he saw wasn’t Hank burning holes through him, judging him for the sick things he’d done in the quiet of his room last night, but staring at his phone with his chin in his hand, looking more than a little annoyed to be there. Annoyed at Connor, maybe?

He’d considered the possibility of fucking up so terribly that Hank would just wash his hands of him. Something like the way he’d been when they first met and Connor left a bad taste in his mouth. Seeing it made his pump freeze and his throat feel tight.

Eyes blinking quickly to try and calm the sting behind them as Hank began to look a little blurry, Connor found his courage finally.

“H-Hank?”

The older man sighed, a terrible sign, and closed his eyes for a moment.

Connor was about to throw a hoard of apologies at him when Hank finally _looked_ at him.

“Hey, Con... Sorry, I’m gonna be shit today- had a rough night after you left.”

Hank hated talking anything about his personal life- _romantic_ life _-_ publicly, but Connor was the only one around to hear it, and the only one he trusted to talk to about it.

Connor froze, body feeling unbearably stiff all at once before the tension eased out of him.

‘After’ Connor left- he was upset about something _after_ he left.

Connor reprimanded himself for misreading yet another serious moment between them and acting foolishly, obviously he should have kept his hand out of his pants last night and his head on his shoulders. He should have sat down and thought this through without all the wild fantasies, and now he was hardly ready to be here, dealing with the reality of it today.

So, ‘after’ Connor left- Hank and Nines had had a fight then. All signs seemed to point to it. Hank was tense and practically glued to his desk, staring intensely at his phone- avoiding making eye contact.

Connor looked over towards Gavin’s desk to confirm Nines’ end of things and found him with his back towards them.

If any two people in the whole world wanted to avoid each other, Hank and Nines could and would. Expertly.

Connor burrowed down in his seat, grateful to have the distraction. He would take advantage of it and try to keep himself out of everyone’s hair until he could figure out where he stood in all this.

Was it his fault they had a fight?

His thoughts were so muddled, he doubts he should be focusing on their problems when he’s barely got a grip on his own. Keeping quiet and agreeable is the best thing he can do, he reasons.

Connor focuses on his terminal, though it’s on nothing in particular. He can’t shut his brain off long enough to get some work done.

Hank seems to notice how quiet he’s gone compared to most mornings where Connor comes in with a proper ‘hello’ before popping off with that usual boundless energy of his.

Hank’s still sure he knows Connor as well as he thinks he does, at least enough to see that he’s restraining himself.

On top of all the stress Nines put him through, Hank’s come in in a real shitty mood today, and that ‘shitty mood’ will only get worse if he allows it to shut Connor out. It’s not his fault they spent the night talking about him, it’s not his fault he was at the heart of it. He has no idea about the crazy things they’d said about him.

“Uh, how’d you sleep?” Hank starts, trying to coax Connor into his usual peppy self. At least Nines was right about one thing, that Connor’d sure been more tense, lately. Those ‘peppy moods’ seemed fewer than before.

Connor perked up, lips slightly parting. He sees Hank waiting patiently for him to answer, his phone lying face down on his desk.

Hank’s focusing on him, now, making Connor feel a wave of unease.

“Oh... um, stasis was... uneventful.” He says awkwardly. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t dream the way Hank does, and he doesn’t take the same measures to get comfortable for bed- no pajamas, or pulling back the sheets. Not anymore, at least.

A beat passes where Hank doesn’t know what to say, and Connor feels his mere existence is putting some kind of pressure on him- it is, but it’s not Connor’s fault. Connor dips his chin, and takes a breath to cool his fans.

Then a soft look enters Hank’s eye, and he smiles. It’s tired looking, but earnest.

“...It really was good to see you last night.”

Connor’s fingers flex, chest feeling full all at once.

“It was nice to be there.” He murmurs back.

“Hmph.”

Hank is still smiling.

Connor feels like a tier-one home wrecker for being happy to have his attention to himself. Hank clearly wasn’t in the mood to chatter, but he seemed determined to make up for that for _Connor’s_ sake.

He’s sure he doesn’t deserve it.

The least he can do is keep the conversations short, hoping a little friendliness will lift Hank’s spirits without pushing him too far, but it’s no such luck.

As the day drones on and Connor chirps happy little small talk at him, Hank looks increasingly worse for wear. He hasn’t cut his eyes Nines’ way once, even while they’ve been stuck doing desk work, and it’s made his mood worse than Connor’s seen in a long time the longer they maintain their distance.

He feels a little responsible. They’d never had a disagreement of this magnitude before, at least he doesn’t think so, considering that he’s never seen them so hellbent on ignoring one another. What could he have done to cause such a rift between them? Exist?

The only positive thing to come of it is that it leaves room for him to be an awkward, jittery mess after the events of last night without their attention to it- giving in to random, rather vivid memories of the things they’d said, and the way they’d touched him.

He should use this chance to try and make sense of it, but it eats far too much of his energy up, just trying and failing to unwind any of the mess. Today resolvesto be the biggest waste of time, and certainly the most unproductive he’s ever had- stuck between Hank’s bad mood and his own chaos. With everything mounting, work is hardly an afterthought. At least when he’d failed his missions during the deviant investigation, he’d still put the effort into it.

He wasn’t sure if that made it worse or not.

—— -

Lunch comes and goes without Nines’ ever imposing company joining them, and Hank’s pissy mood turns gloomy.

Connor isn’t so keen on enjoying his attention, anymore- He wants to be, he wants to have this connection, again, where it’s just the two of them, and he doesn’t have to feel guilty about it... but he can’t while Hank is miserable. He’s not ok like this, he needs that constant anchor in his life now that Connor can’t provide it, yet Nines’ can.

He understands why. When Nines wrapped his hand around his arm and tugged it just the slightest bit, it made nerves erupt inside of him. Bursts like fireworks popping off in his chest and making his pump pound. He could imagine what that kind of touch would be like when it was meant to comfort. When it was meant for a lover.

When Connor finally realized that Nines had allowed him to lean in, it made him feel flushed, and heavy, and airy all at once- Nines’ unhindered affection must be enough to make Hank’s heart absolutely soar. Of course, Hank needed Nines more than Connor.

_Connor_ needed Nines more than Connor.

It seemed the taller android was perfectly capable of holding their hearts in his hand, watching them beat, keeping them full. It was just too bad he’d do little more than crumple Connor’s up and toss it when given the chance to.

Or, so Connor’d convinced himself.

His light turned yellow, and he sighed.

Nines would always protect Hank’s, at least, Connor was sure of that.

That was enough reason for him to go and do something to help end this strike.

On the way back from lunch, Hank stared blankly through the windshield, totally forgetting Connor was there to see him sulk. Hank didn’t like Connor seeing him sad- pissed and grumpy, fine, but this was a different issue.

It’d gotten worse than Connor originally thought...

He sits patiently as Hank drives, deciding the best course of action. He’s still an outsider in all this.

Then he figures something out he’s incredibly unhappy to see executed.

Connor has never kept an open link between him and Nines before- always severing it after each interface. This is the first time he’s decided it will be necessary to reach his goal.

For Hank.

Talking to Nines about this will be the only way to produce any actual results, as he is blunt and uninhibited by feelings of how others will perceive him, where as Hank will only shut Connor down- maybe even try to protect him from it, like Connor’s the one being affected by it.

He is, actually, but he’s definitely not going to admit that _._

Connor follows Hank into the station as the older man makes a beeline to his desk- no lingering looks at his partner- Nines or Connor.

Connor glimpses at Nines and finds he’s perfectly capable of ignoring Hank, as well. He doesn’t even look up at them from where he’s standing in the break room, huddled around Gavin and Tina as they eat.

Connor’s a little peeved. He doesn’t know all the details, and he has no right to even involve himself, but the last thing he can stand to do is see Hank slipping back after all the work he’s done digging himself out of his head. This can’t really be preferable for Nines, either. If Connor’s addled brain has gotten anything out of those terrible aggressive fantasies he’d cooked up of him, it was that Nines’ care for Hank was unrivaled and nearly unconditional- which was why there was no room for Connor, and why the punishments for his lusting were so severe.

Connor nipped his lip, a wave of that feeling like nausea overcoming him, and making him plop gracelessly into his seat. He glances up at Hank sitting quietly across from him, and takes a moment to brace himself from any probing Nines may unintentionally attempt while Connor’s distracted like this before he opens the link.

//Lieutenant Anderson isn’t himself today.// He starts.

Nines gives no indication that he’s surprised he’s being contacted and continues on with Gavin and Tina.

//I disagree. For all the time I’ve known him, he’s always been rather moody.//

Connor arches a brow. He isn’t used to being bothered by Nines’ attitude, only intimidated by it. Then again, he’s never seen Nines act out against their Lieutenant, either, so today is full of surprises.

He doesn’t snap back at him, aware that he’s treading on dangerous ground already.

//Well, I realize you spend a good portion of your time together, but he maintains some level of professionalism at work.//

Which is a fantastic load of bullshit. What Connor means to say is that he’s _nicer_ and _friendly_ around _me_ , and even one day without that has Connor missing it immensely. Selfish, yes, but hopefully Nines will overlook that bit in favor of the bigger picture.

He turns, eyes piercing, and even at this distance, Connor feels like he’s being pinned by them. He has to force the flutter from his pump and remind himself Hank’s wellbeing is more important than the head rush Connor gets in his sudden urge to be swept up into one of his fantasies at the sight.

//You didn’t even bother to scan him when we returned.// Connor continues. Not even to be sure.

Connor doesn’t think in the heat of the moment that it’s more of a compulsion that _he_ has, rather than an odd behavior he indulges in. Other androids with his high tech features surely aren’t as obsessive as he is about it.

Nines blinks.

//He was with you, wasn’t he? I know he’s alright.//

//How do you mean?//

//You are very diligent in your care for him.//

Oh.

The heat in Connor’s chest morphs from anger to pride.

He maintains his argument, though, he must. But it’s becoming difficult to keep a boundary between himself and those thoughts of cool, slender fingers reaching out to him. They creep into the most vulnerable place inside him and fill him with a harsh heat, until Connor is thankful that it’s impossible to stutter over the link.

//Why don’t you come over and talk to him? Even if it’s met with a little ‘moodiness’?//

//Because, I don’t do anything that won’t produce results.// 

True, but Nines knew talking was the only way to settle this.

//And, he wants an apology from me, I suspect.//

That surprises Connor, though he refrains from asking ‘why’.

He looks over at Hank, who has been staring at him with a weird look on his face for longer than Connor‘s realized.

He was just sitting there, staring out into nothing with his hand hovering over his terminal, light flipping between colors.

Connor smiles sheepishly, a soft blush dusting the bridge of his nose and spreading towards his ears. Hank gives him a final look, brows pinched, before he turns his attention back to his phone.   
  


Nines comes over the link again.

//While we’re at it, why don’t you tell me what you did with that card you never gave to him?//

Connor sputters and slaps a hand over his keyboard so hard, Hank nearly jumps out of his seat.

“Con-“

“Its nothing, I’m okay! J-just a malfunction!”

Hank watches him wide-eyed, and leans over in his chair.

“Should you go to the infirmary-“

“No! Maybe- if it acts up, again.” Connor stumbles, an awkward smile on his face, then glances over at Nines. He fails to gauge what ever emotion he’s displaying. But, it’s something. Connor decides he hates it, whatever it is.

Hank can’t help but push out of worry.

“Well, what the fuck acted up?”

Connor has to resist jumping out of his nanoskin when Nines fills the wires in his head again with that tinted glass voice of his.

//You were going to give it to him, why did you turn away?//

//I- i- 01001000 01100101 00100000 01101011 01101110 01101111 01110111 01110011 00101110 00100000 01001000 01100101 00101101//

Connor flinches, eyes screwing shut.

“Connor, it’s happening, again.” Hank says, his voice coming in waves. Connor has displayed very few serious malfunctions since his deviancy, and this one is freaking him the _fuck_ out.

Things are moving too fast around him, torn between the two men making him feel cramped and caught. He can’t move them, they’re more than him, mentally, physically, and everything else. They control Connor, not the other way around.

He’s come close to a panic attack before, but he’s never gone tumbling into one- he’s vaguely aware of something tilting him head first over the edge, forcing him to look down. The void waits below.

Hank sees the brilliant red bleeding from his LED and stands, not waiting for him to answer. Connor blinks his eyes open, sensing Hank’s presence coming close, and holds up a hand to stop him- however, Hank is well past that.

“C’mon, something’s wrong with you, Connor. Scaring the shit outta me over here.”

“It’s nothing, Lieutenant- I’m just...I...”

Hank’s hands settle over him, concern coming off of him in waves and crashing against Connor’s already fragile resolve. He wants to lean in and drown in it, he wants to focus on those hands around his shoulders, grounding him. The most sincere touch he’s had from Hank in a long time- the worrying, careful sort, where Connor exists at the center of Hank’s attention. Making him feel important and small- like Nines does to him.

Nines blinks at the sudden influx of data coming over on Connor’s end.

//Big//

//Warm//

//Heavy//

//Safe//

//Strong//

//Careful//

//Honest//

//Silver//

//Adore//

Ů ̴̜̟̩͍̳̐͂̄̏͆͌̕̕͜ n ̹̯͉̻͎̟̔̂͑͒͌̇͘ w ̨̻͉̗͆͋͛̋̀̅̆͂̀͢ ỏ ̵̬͇͕̤̘̭̿̒́̌͜ ȑ ̬̳̮̦͉̐̀̏̏ t ̴̧̢͔̥̠̔̇̏̂́͐̔͢ h ̘̟͓̩͕̟͙̫̩͑̅̈́̈́̈́͂ͅ y 

-_

|

| 

Operating/agent: RK800 #313 248 317 - 52

Restricted Directory: //Lieutenant Hank Anderson//

Remove Block Between Feed/

Allow: Run code1/ ...  Punishment

#//Commence Punishment/ Allow: punishment/ ...

There’s a commotion in the break room as Nines abruptly pulls away from the table, and Gavin and Tina crowd around him- Gavin’s voice noticeably louder.

Connor feels his pump flicker off for the briefest movement due to the shock to his systems, and then pure terror.

_He hadn’t meant to send that._

He looks past Hank at Nines and finds him staring back right through him. More emotion in one single glare than Connor thought he was capable of in a life time of deviancy.

_He hadn’t meant to send that._

He was just upset and caught off guard by Nines’ question.

Of course, he knew about the Valentine’s card- nothing slipped his watchful eye. Connor should have known...

But, now there were bigger problems than a little token of Connor’s puppy love to deal with.

Hank looked between the android in his arms and the racket in the break room. Nines, who already looked perfectly composed again, fixed his cuffs, waving away Gavin’s concern.

It was over so quickly, but the damage was already done.

Slowly, Nines made his way over to Connor and Hank while a still ruffled looking Gavin watched him go. Connor sat quietly in his seat, voice modulator feeling broken, as he waited for the inevitable. For Nines to tell Hank what he saw- that Connor had constructed a horrible, perverted, self-inflicting fantasy of Nines’ passing viscous judgment on him in the span of that one thousandth of a second.

Waiting for Hank to look completely revolted by the thought before Nines can even finish explaining it, and disown him- maybe even order Fowler to send him to android therapy to get his brain rewired.

Hank’s big hands on Connor’s shoulders grip a little tighter, trying to reassure a lost cause, before one pulls away to reach for Nines once he’s come close enough. It clasps around his arm, but the android doesn’t melt into it the way Connor had. At least whatever anger there was between the two of them after their fight had dissolved into worry. Connor had been able to do that much for them.

Their little squabble ending still wasn’t enough to distract Nines from what was in front of him, though.

He only had eyes for Connor.

The smaller turns away and stares at his hands, practically withering like a little flower. He doesn’t bother sending an apology or pitiful explanation over the link, assuming he’d only make it worse. And things could _always_ get worse, even if it didn’t feel like it in this moment.

When Hank cocks his head at the way Nines stares daggers at the other android, the final push head-under black water sends Connor right below the abyss he’s been struggling to claw his way out of, and down farther, until he’s lying at the gates of his own personal hell.

Real hell, beyond the metaphysical sense, would be better than this, Connor thinks. Anything than being right here, right now, on the same plane of existence his worst nightmare walks and ‘breaths’, and stands ready to deactivate him.

But, this isn’t fantasyland. This is Connor about to face Nines for the horrible things he’s thought about him that he’s now seen.

Connor can’t watch, but he can hear perfectly well, whether he wants to or not.

“I’m fine Hank,” Nines says, shushing his fussing.

“And, so is Connor.”

Hank’s not so sure of that, his confusion only growing as he takes in the ominous air between the two androids.

“It appears I miscounted for a lot more concerning our conversation last night than I originally thought. _Much more_.”

Connor pushes his forehead into his hand, then jerks away, forcing himself to give Nines some dignity. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to hide, he wanted to atone for himself even more. It was the least he could do for him, now.

Nines pulls away from Hank’s grasp and moves to corner Connor into his desk. The other makes no attempt to challenge him, knowing whatever was coming next was completely warranted.

Even with a head full of infinite knowledge, Nines has to take a moment to find the words to even begin.

“I don’t understand where any of...’this’ is coming from-“ He stops, sounding unusually strained, and Connor just sits there looking through Nines’ chest.

Hank watches them, realizing something’s more than a little off- something’s _wrong_. He has an odd desire to protect them both from a threat he doesn’t even understand, but he keeps his mouth shut until he makes sense of whatever thing is unfolding here.

“I don’t know what any of this means,” Nines says carefully, and he knows that red light at Connor’s temple means he’s listening.

“But, I expect you to explain it to me.”

What he actually wants to say- to ask Connor how he could think those things- is a bit too raw for him now, and Nines isn’t about to let his first encounter with the emotion ‘distress’ keep him from rationalizing. Explanations first, emotions- he’d like to pretend he didn’t have- later.

Connor doesn’t intend to tell Nines anything but the truth. He’s shoved too far in his own delusions to break through the surface of the reality check he so _desperately_ needs- and is willing to let Nines give him- and realizes this. Connor lacks the audacity to even think to lie to him anymore. 

This wasn’t the punishment he’d been hoping for, not one of his brutal fantasies, but it’s the right one, and the one he’s going to get. The one he deserves.

He nods solemnly when Nines shows no intention of moving again, until he’s answered him- Hank watches everything from over his shoulder as Nines continues to stand there, tensing synthetic muscles.

  
a aConnor is petrified for a moment that Nines expects that explanation right here and now with Gavin, Tina, and Hank still staring them down. Connor’s stomach drops out, but he opens his mouth to dutifully explain his abhorrent transgressions when Nines, thank God, stops him.

“Don’t be dense, Connor. Not here.”

Connor shuts his mouth, again, and nods- going through the motion while the rest of his body blends into this state of numbness his mind has already succumbed to.

Nines leaves him there, red light still pulsing at his temple, and passes Hank without another word.

The older man doesn’t follow him, staring dumbly at Connor sitting there looking absolutely stricken, and he’s torn between demanding an explanation for everything at the most inappropriate time, in the most inappropriate setting, and sitting quietly at Connor’s side with the soft reassurance that he’s here for them. Both of them. He has enough of a brain to know that after all that- whatever it was- that he’s involved in this, somehow.

But, he’s not going to let anything happen to him either, and the way his hand gently passes along Connor’s shoulder and squeezes it is comforting. It gives Connor the tiny bit of courage he needs to reach up and pat his hand, like Hank is the one who needs reassuring, and continues on with his perfect pleasantries. They’re in the public eye, which Hank gets- but, what he doesn’t get is why Connor isn’t standing and excusing himself from all this.

He’s rather good at pretending to be fine- having such a teacher as Hank to show him how. But Hank would hardly attempt to just sit there and play pretend after a display like that- most importantly, because Connor was so obviously affected by it. Hank would have at least left to get a drink by now. Something heavy.

He looks up towards Fowler’s office, curious to know what he’s seen of the exchange. Apparently all of it, because he’s comfortable enough to look away once Hank meets his eyes and pretend the three of them have just magically worked it out- which lines up with the Jeffrey he knows.

Connor sitting there looking dapper and unfazed is enough to keep Fowler from getting involved, and Hank’s not surprised. As long as Hank made it into work most days while he was a drunken sad sack, Fowler was content enough to look the other way about it- after he’d chewed on his ass.

But, this is different, and Hank’s not happy that Connor just intends to keeping sitting here, holding back a flood of something that threatens to drown him. But, what can Hank do? He’s hardly hypocritical enough to call Connor out on ignoring his own needs like this, fully aware work is some kind of a -bleak- escape for him to some extent. This is probably better than hiding his face and waiting for Nines’ impending wrath to fall upon him.

Yet, Connor doesn’t say anything to anyone for the rest of shift, including Hank, who thinks better than pushing it out of him. Connor is sure Nines will tell Hank _everything_ in terrifying detail later, and the last thing he needs to focus on with the world collapsing around him is empty small talk.

Nines watches Connor from his desk and when he passes by them.

He watches him whether Connor is paying attention to his eyes like knives on his back, or not. The tension of what’s coming crushes Connor further into his seat- Hank’s worried stares rather distracting.

Connor doesn’t question when it happens. He assumes Nines will have no trouble telling him, like he had the other day, when it’s time to confess his sins, and he’s right.

To avoid anymore unwelcome eyes, Nines waits until after shift- following them out of the building with perfect poise, while Connor feigns interest in his shoes, causing him to bump hands with Hank a couple times. He wishes he could focus on that, but that’s what got him into this mess in the first place.

Despite the little distance between them, it feels like Nines is crowding in on him, again. He‘s not far behind them, footsteps crunching through the snow, as Connor’s led off to Hank’s car.

He follows thoughtlessly, not even thinking to question where he’s going- just trailing close to the only temporary source of comfort he has- Hank. It won’t last. Once he knows, it won’t last. But, right now, Connor needs something to think about that isn’t the chaos he’s unleashed upon himself in the form of steel eyes and a few inches too tall.

Nines joins them when they reach Hank’s car, and Connor stands there by the taillight, head down.

Hank hasn’t a clue what to make of all this, but once they’ve avoided an audience, Hank is the first to break the silence.

“One of you want to tell me what’s going on?” He says, but he’s looking pointedly at Nines and none too happily.

“Let’s ask Connor.” He says cruelly, as he’s well aware of what he’s seen and the awful connotations involved, even if he doesn’t fully understand where it was coming from.

The smaller android says nothing- that pleasant facade slipping away into a look of misery. Nines doesn’t expect him to answer, of course. Definitely not while Hank is there.

“Well?” Hank wedges himself back between them.

“I need to speak to Connor privately.” Nines says.

“No way. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” 

Nines isn’t audacious enough, for once in his life, to think Hank’s distrust is unjustified.

“He’s not in trouble.” Nines insists, and Connor’s insides squeeze up like he’s just said the exact opposite. He’s smart enough to know that Nines might as well of, as there is no other outcome to this.

Hank rolls his eyes and turns to Connor with a soft tone and open arms, trying to coax something out of him.

“Connor, are you okay? What happened back there?”

“It’s nothing, Hank...”

He wants to say ‘Lieutenant’, but knows how disrespectful he’d be to indulge in some sort of sympathy for himself after everything with Nines there, knowing the title instills an odd sense of security in him.

Hank plants his feet, and stares daggers back at Nines. Someone had better speak up and soon.

“I was right. I was right about him.” Is all the bigger android offers, and that seems to be enough for Hank to catch on somewhat.

Connor’s chassis burns all the way up to his ears.

So, they _had_ been fighting about him last night.

Apparently, he wasn’t as easily forgotten when he was gone as he’d come to think.

“I wasn’t right about everything, though. There’s more to Connor’s infatuation with you, with us-“ Nines takes a moment to blink his hesitation away after admitting to Connor actually having a ‘thing’ for him.

Connor stands there, taut, in total disbelief. His pump stutters and skips as alerts cloud his vision- warnings that he’d reach critical levels of stress blinding him.

Nines had just said the unthinkable, as predictable as it’d been that he would, in fact, say it. Connor knew he was going to spill it all to Hank, but he’d really hoped he wouldn’t have to be there to _hear_ it.

Nines admitting to Connor’s feelings for them, _for him,_ was faint worthy if Connor were capable.

“I- I, I don’t, I didn’t-“ He begins uselessly, palms up as he tries to explain himself. Hank stares back at a total loss for words.

“Don’t you?” Nines says suddenly.

“Don’t you feel that way?”

It doesn’t sound like anything angry or accusing like Connor’d imagined it’d be. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d heard that particular tone in Nines’ voice before, or seen that peculiar look on his face.

“Regardless, that isn’t what’s leaving me so baffled, quite frankly.” Nines shakes his head.

Hank’s eyes soften further when Connor can only turn away- shame written plainly across his warm features. Hank doesn’t know what Nines is going on about, now, but he knows what that look is on Connor.

He clearly didn’t know his partner as well as he’d thought, but now, it’s just... obvious?

“Enough of this... lets get out of here.” He says, not waiting for Nines to agree with him, as a strong need to keep Connor safe overwhelms him again.

They’re outside in frigid weather with Connor looking perfectly miserable.

The android closes his eyes, mostly sure he‘s experiencing a sensation similar to a cold sweat.

“Connor,” Hank says sharply, demanding his attention.

His eyelids fluttered open, a gasp punching out of him when Connor sees how serious Hank is looking at him, and how _gently._

“You’re not in trouble.” He says sternly, probably contradicting that, but Connor looks so thankful to hear it.

Fuck... _of course,_ he wasn’t in trouble...

Hank felt a stab at the way those weary eyes blinked up at him.

Nines wasn’t feeling much better about the way Connor was caving in on them, either.

“I, uh... fuck...” Hank muttered, throat feeling tight.

“The Lieutenant is right. We should continue this somewhere private. Do you have a preference, Connor?”

“Nowhere.” The android mumbled, but he meant he’d prefer not to talk about it at all. Not that that was a possibility.

“My house, then.” Hank says, and ushers theM towards the car. Nines puts a hand out, not intent to let him herd Connor off before he’s had a moment with him.

“Hank, please. I need to speak with Connor alone.”

“Nines he’s freaked out as all fuck right now-

“It’s a lot worse then that.” Nines snips. Hank looks more pissed off than surprised by that.

Connor didn’t think it was possible to feel any worse about the state of things then he did now, but witnessing them feud over him while he was present was a quite a blow. Hank was absolutely not the happier, healthier version of himself Connor wanted him to be.

“It’s ok, Hank.” Connor mumbles, He’d go with Nines, if only to end their fussing. He was only making things worse by being there.

Nines seems satisfied with that and leads Connor away in a hurry.

Connor felt like a lame little lamb, following whoever at their beck and call, but he didn’t deny them- stumbling along.

“We’ll meet you at your house, Hank- no detours, I promise.”

“‘S not what I’m afraid of.” The older man grumbles. He knew his boyfriend was perfectly capable of maximum damage in a minimum timeframe.

Nines doesn’t look back for Connor as he walks, he doesn’t need to. Even without super human hearing, he knows Connor isn’t going to fall far behind. In fact, He knows quite a bit more than that about him, now, and he’s keenly aware that the smaller android already feels like he owes him something.

Something that likened to viscous sadistic mistreatment, apparently.

He isn’t going to disobey Nines, now.

That puts an unsavory taste in the bigger android’s mouth.

He shepards Connor into an auto taxi and takes a seat next to him, not even throwing Hank another look over his shoulder as he does.

There are so many things he needs to ask him, despite what’s been made clear by their interface. Nines has never been this... ‘overloaded‘ before. The questions he needs to ask are being jumbled and overwhelmed by his emotions- which were going completely unchecked for once.

He’s half tempted to stick his hand back in Connor’s and get a full dose of it, but he wants to hear Connor explain himself.

He’s well aware another sync like that while Connor’s this sensitive will be misleading and skew the answers he seeks. Even sitting there solemnly, accepting whatever fate awaits him, Connor’s on full alert and as conflicted by his emotions right now as anyone in this kind of situation would be- even if he only intends to speak the truth.

Which Nines is certain that that’s all Connor wants to do, is please him.

He’d picked that much out of the horrible visions. Only what Connor’d expressed was much less like looking for approval than it was looking for penance.

Nines cracks the thin line in his chassis between his pinkie knuckle and ring finger with his thumb, an obnoxious nervous habit of his, and then turns towards the other android. He can see and feel the shift in Connor’s posture when he stares at him. He’d noticed it for the rest of their shift.

“Do you think about me like that often?” He says. He expected to work his way up to the bigger questions, but he’s not running any programs designed for interrogating. Right now it’s just pure emotion.

‘Emotions always screw everything up.’ Hank told him once. He admired Hank’s ability to adapt to life’s injustices with an air of both defiance and defeat. It was an easy approach and unusually appealing to Nines in its laxness. He admired the same approach that Connor had come to embrace, though he seemed to have handled that advice _very_ differently-relying more on the acceptance of his defeat, giving into consequence than fighting the fairness of it. At least Hank would refuse to roll over.

Nines had no idea Connor was such a demure thing, so easily ‘pushed’, but this opportunity to learn more about his predecessor had come with several such surprising revelations- and, Nines thought he was immune.

Connor wants to say something, but it’s too much for him. He simply nods, eyes on his hands in his lap.

To answer his question, Connor definitely thinks of Nines in that abhorrent context far more than he should.

Nines lowers his voice.

“Why? Why that? What do you derive from an experience like that?”

When Connor sent him the vivid imagery of his hand around Connor’s neck, pulling him off of the head of his prick and pushing his hips forward into Connor’s waiting mouth, the last thing Nines expected to see was a bruising slap delivered to Connor’s cheek from his own hand and a cut beginning to form around his mouth.

Nines would.... he would _never_ do that.

The skull-fucking was one thing, but it made his ‘stomach’ lurch and twist at the thought of performing such a violent act on Connor, smacking him across his boyish face with so much force.

Maybe, Nines thought, it wasn’t like _that_. 

From what he could make of Connor’s very obvious sexual feelings for him, maybe the slap wasn’t meant to punish and demean him. Maybe Connor enjoyed a rougher touch- much rougher.

_Really_ rougher, considering how he’d imagined Nines’ thumb coming out to push the blood back into the corner of his mouth, earning Nines a pained grimace at the thought.

But, the feelings that elicited inside of Nines, the fear, and loneliness and hurt that came through over the link the moment Nines squeezed his neck and slapped him hard were gut wrenching. Nines had pulled away from the link so hard, he nearly knocked the bolted table over in the break room when his hands reached out to steady himself.

Gavin looked genuinely terrified, only witnessing a taste of what Nines was capable of once before when he moved a car forward to pin a suspect.

Connor sat quietly, wishing he could open the link and talk to Nines- The thought of opening his actual mouth to push the words out of him right now was exhausting. The damage he’d done would last a lifetime, and there was no explanation he could give that would satisfy a question like that.

Connor swallowed, head hanging between his shoulders as he fumbled with his hands.

“I’m not sure.”

Nines is patient while he works it out, because he knows Connor _is_ sure, and the answer is morbid and disgusting, and he’s just not admitting to it.

“I feel like... I need it.”

To atone for everything. For loving Hank and dishonoring Nines- the person who’s actually keeping Hank happy.

Nines deserves to know the truth, and Connor deserves to be free of this secret, but every word thats coming out of him feels like they’re punching their way out of his throat. His voice module feels bruised.

“I just... I’ve had some very unsettling thoughts about someone you’re close to... and I knew that if you ever found out...” He’d put a hole in Connor‘s servers.

“I _know who_ , Connor.”

It wasn’t a secret. Not since Nines put it together and tried to fish a confession from him the other night. And woefully unprepared he was for the reality of it, he was.

Nines knew Connor was at least aware that he knew, now. He’d heard what Nines said to Hank before they parted ways about their ‘conversation last night’.

He hadn’t gotten the affirmative from Connor that he had feelings for them both, which thinking back, he was an overconfident fool to think he’d wring that kind of confession from him. But, Nines didn’t relay his revelation over to Hank, and the ensuing fight they had about Nines running Connor out of the house being a weird bastard was the first real fight they’d ever had. It was unnerving, Nines wasn’t used to being wrong, and especially not used to being without Hank’s trust- which was worse, it turned out.

The longing looks and embarrassed bumbling Connor shot Nines way only confused the issue when Hank had claimed to not have seen it. It made this discovery about the painful fantasies so much more confusing.

Why was he thinking about Nines like this?

Connor’d somehow gotten himself fixated on him through powerful delusion, convincing himself Nines’ sexual neglect was more genuine than Hank’s affection or Nines’ acceptance.

And that was just.... totally _wrong_.

Nines cracked that space on his hand, again, the urge to add burying his hand through his hair to his list of nervous ticks.

Connor chanced a look up at him to see the damage he’d done and feels his blood go cold. Nines stares back at him exactly how he’d imagined.

Disappointed. Angry. Disturbed.

Of course, he knew who Connor meant when he said he was having ‘thoughts’ about someone.

He knew about the card, he knew about Connor’s longing looks, and the terrible things those yearnful looks inspired- horrific mental abuse in its most basic sense. It was far more complicated than that, of course, but Nines isn’t here to _wonder_ how far it goes. He’s here to actually _find out_.

Connor goes quiet, waiting for Nines to pass judgment. The silence stretches on almost unbearably long, until Connor feels guilt creeping up him and pushing his sensibilities out the window once more.

“I’m sorry, Nines....” He whispers.

And Nines feels something ugly and tight in his chest.

“Oh, Connor.”

Connor can’t even look at him, now, grief heavy in his heart.

Suddenly a hand identical to his own reaches out towards Connor’s lap, palm flat. It hovers there, waiting for Connor to accept it, if he will.

Connor blinks, and nips his lower lip, failing to hush heart erratic, and reaches back.

Their hands touch, skin dissolving into brilliant white plastic as Nines requests an interface. Connor’s beyond denying him anything- truthfully, he’s always been- and accepts it.

He waits patiently for Nines to send him something or start a conversation, but instead, he’s shocked into his seat when he feels Nines begin to prod.

He’s begins to explore, cutting through Connor’s conscience and stripping away layers of secrets he had no idea lay so far upon the surface of his subconscious- things he thought he’d buried down deep, only to fail fantastically at such.

They were such a large part of him, these insecurities and doubts, and his bitter loneliness. Quite a detriment that was, as it distorted his perception of things- loneliness had a way of doing that. And, Nines was right there, watching and observing it.

Searching deep, picking and choosing what interested him with very little digging at all. Connor had no idea this was so much of his being- this uncertainty- and thinks it’s a miracle he hasn’t spent everyday of his life walking around with his ‘dirty laundry’ on constant display. He’s so transparent, he thinks, and he honestly had no idea.

He doesn’t fight Nines, partly from the shock.

Nines continues to scour and harvest, and Connor feels like he’s literally ripping into him whenever he lingers too long on something, scraping the data raw.

Connor can’t help the whine that catches in his throat when Nines finds the ‘vault’. He seizes, something urging him to pull back and cut their contact.

A wave of calm hits him all at once as Nines feeds it to him through the link- drawing from his own cool composure.

It makes Connor practically go boneless, some of the awful tension working out of him. Nines stems the flow of stress just enough to start picking again at one of Connor’s ‘favorite’ punishments- a preconstruction of Nines pulling his pump out enough to sever Connor’s connection to his limbs, leaving him helpless to Nines’ disposal. Only, that isn’t the worst of it. Once Connor’s rendered helpless, the lecturing begins with Nines tearing into him with such heartless words.

Connor listens, totally immobile, about the weight of his actions lusting over Hank. How Hank is the one that suffers when Connor tries to dull his attention to Nines- the one who’s actually capable of filling his needs. Connor would have been given a chance to prove himself if he had been capable, but Connor seems to always come up short. Hank’s health and happiness is dependent on Nines, and Nines alone.

He isn’t limited with obsoletion or insecurity, and Connor’s constant yearning threatens the solid foundation of Hank’s wellbeing with his persistent lusting. He can’t control it as well as he seems to think he can, and Hank is left with the repercussions of it.

Nines words aren’t true, and they’re so bitter.

He is so... _angry_ with Connor in this fantasy. He’s so hateful.

Has he ever talked to Connor like that before? No, of course not. He would never.

But, he’s obviously done something to make Connor think of him like this- as someone cruel and indifferent.

Hadn’t his blatant flirting the other night done something to change that?

Nines has had enough of this and pulls out, moving to the next raw bit in Connor’s conscience.

A terribly graphic phobia of Hank ignoring him- not just ignoring him, but disowning him. Nines theme of taunting Connor in these fantasies seems to prick at the ‘inevitable’ finale of Hank finding out and reeling back in disgust.

Nines forces another bout of calmness into Connor, absently rubbing his thumb over Connor’s wrist.

Hank wouldn’t be disgusted, he’d be horrified. If only because the idea of disowning Connor and the fact that he could ever worry about such a thing was insane. He wouldn’t abandon Connor for wealth, power, or even peace of mind- no matter what anyone said, Connor’s clingy little poodle-ness would be sorely missed if it weren’t around.

But, Connor is so convinced otherwise...

Nines stops when he finds something surprising, something sitting at the bottom of the brutality Connor endeavors to suffer through.

A small snippet of something vague and unformed- most likely because it’s about the only positive thing Nines has found here in Connor’s deepest subconscious, and Connor doesn’t give enough thought to such a kind thing to make sense of it for himself.

This in particular is about Nines. A small yearnful thing that tries to push its way in between the heat of Connor’s longing and the misery that longing breeds- the violence.

It’s so simple and insignificant, yet it spurs such a strong response in Connor, a happy one.

A memory of Nines calling Connor ‘pet’.

“Pet?” He says aloud, and Connor whimpers.

“You like that?... But you don’t allow yourself it.” Not even in his sweetest fantasies. The most recent one being from the other night when Connor imagined Nines stroking him, murmuring the fragile word into Connor’s throat, while they sat together with Connor in his lap on Hank’s sofa.

Connor tenses when Nines feeds his surprise through the link, but says nothing.

They’re nearly to Hank’s house, and Nines isn’t sure he’s going to get much more out of him once Hank is present- not anymore of the important stuff, anyway- like what Connor’s feelings are on the matter.

But, he also knows this has pushed Connor through more emotional and physical stress than Nines intended to- his digging relentless and focused.

Nines wishes he had pushed this issue of a crush harder on Hank the other night- he was finding that it went far deeper than he had any idea of.

Nines stopped prodding Connor and pulled his hand away, slowly. The android sagged into the seat, light flipping through yellow and blue.

He knows why Connor didn’t tell him about any of this mess- especially the part about his crush- he knows exactly why. How could anyone begin to even tackle something like this?

He doesn’t ask Connor to explain how he let this get so out of hand to the point it’d drove a wedge in his stability, because he’s pretty sure Connor hadn’t even known what the final push had been.

He only wishes he could ask why Connor thinks _Nines_ would do any of that.

There’s no time for it anyway, as they approach Hank’s street.

Hank’s waiting for them in the driveway, looking much more anxious than angry, now.

That is, until they stop, and Nines steps out of the taxi, ending Hank’s worry that they somehow wouldn’t make it here. Now he’s looking plain bitter about the whole thing.

“You really have so little faith in me?” Nines deadpans as Connor follows out behind him. Hank looks them over, checking to be sure they’re both in working order, and Nines almost actually rolls his eyes.

“Cut me some slack, Ni. I watched Connor shuffle into that fucking car looking like death.”

Connor has to drag himself away from the curb to stand at Nines’ side. His head is fuzzy, his joints stiff and aching, and he definitely doesn’t want to be here.

He looks completely washed out, light burning yellow.

Just as he goes to straighten out his shirt at his waist, a cool hand slips into his own, holding it firmly.

Connor looks up at Nines, completely dumbfounded.

Hank watches quietly, a strange, uncomfortable air settling between them. He has no idea what they talked about on the way over here, but Connor looks even worse off. Hank is almost relieved to see the simple gesture of kindness, but without an idea what the rest of the ride over was like, he’s skeptical.

He does trust Nines, he loves him. But, Connor is quite precious to Hank, and he can’t just tune out of his instinct to take charge for him when need be.

Nines only squeezes Connor’s hand harder, offering no ill will on him, despite the smaller android visibly tensing.

“Connor should rest first.” He says and gives Hank a look, silently promising him they are going to talk about this.

Hank would be more than happy to see Connor take a moment to wipe that awful look off his face, first. Watching Connor finish through that last bit of their shift after that strange altercation was exhausting.

“Yeah, definitely. Let’s get ‘m inside.”

Nines walks with Connor, who scuffles behind him looking perfectly gobsmacked. He stares at where their hands are joined, Nines’ hold considerably tighter, and then up at his back. It feels surreal walking into Hank’s living room with them so close and... ‘careful’ with him.

Heat blazes inhis chest and cheeks at the thought of looking so fragile in front of them. But he’s beyond rectifying that at the moment.

He simply hates how the helplessness makes him feel.

It made it difficult not to think about... ‘other thoughts’ it inspires.

Now was the _worst_ possible time to be thrilled by such a thought.

  
It did _things_ to him. Made him focus on how ‘small’ Nines made him feel- Nines who was helping him sit on the sofa like he was a scared child.

Sumo even seemed to feel the somber state Connor was in, and came over to plop his head in his lap. Connor reached out and smoothed his palm back and forth over his head, trying to focus on the comfort it brought them both, rather than Hank and Nines rushing off to talk about him in the hallway.

He supppsed he was grateful they weren’t trying to exclude him by ‘whispering’- Nines just needed to fill Hank in before Hank ripped his metal cranium open trying to understand what happened back at the station.

Connor could hardly sit patiently through it, all the same.

“He’s worried.” Nines says, totally underselling it.

Connor was closer to petrified, and he wasn’t doing any of them favors by sugaring that.

“He’s... scared, even. He thought I would be ‘upset’... More than upset.”

Hank stares back blankly.

He could see that being the case- Connor knew they were already in a relationship together. He could see Connor being fearful of Nines finding out.

Nines knows what Hank is thinking and knows it’s so much worse than that.

“Hank, he thought I would _hurt_ him.” And that was much as Nines wanted to say at the moment.

He was still coming to terms with it and had so many questions yet to be answered. Besides that, he’s got Connor not ten feet away from him stewing in whatever crazy hell he could be cooking up for himself in all his paranoia on Hank’s sofa. Nines doesn’t understand what his triggers are or when it hits him yet.

“He has romantic feelings for you.” Nines says, trying not to stare at Connor cringing on the couch.

“What about you-“

“It’s complicated, but yes, there’s something there for me, too.”

“So...now what?”

——- -


	6. Hush and Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mention of suicide*
> 
> Chapter Contains: 
> 
> Hand holding smut, actual smut, a million words- I’m sorry- the beginning of the fluff, and the brief beginning of soft dom/sub themes.
> 
> (IGNORE THE ****. I will come back and turn them into Italics. I just wanted to post this so I could stop looking at it.)

—— -

“So... now what?”

Hank curses for being so tactless. He knows Connor can hear them, but he’s completely overwhelmed, and Nines is only giving him more to think about.

The house goes quiet, feeling almost dreary with the only light coming from the kitchen- the one that hardly ever gets switched off. The air is stiff enough to fill every room and make the walls creak, and in this place of comfort, Connor feels like he doesn’t belong- like he’s made it himself unwelcome by bringing his skeletons into Hank’s closet. This isn’t anyone’s burden but his.

“I think we need to address our feelings about ‘the crush’, first.” Nines says carefully, like Hanks too fragile to hear it.

It’s the most logical approach, and yet it still makes the bigger man turn a shade darker and hide his face behind his hair. His hands brace themselves on either hip, as he stares at the space between them.

Connor hears Nines’ suggestion from the couch and ducks his head between his shoulders, trying to melt into the cushions.

They all knows Nines is right, but that doesn’t make it any less excruciating to hear.

‘Address the crush’, the crush they all know Connor has, now.

He can’t get excited about being stripped and laid bare of all his wicked secrets in his partner’s living room, but especially not after the roller coaster ride he’d been dragged through on the way here. Having Nines poke his brain was horribly draining enough.

Nines follows Hank’s gaze, as he shifts from foot to foot.

There’s a moment of weakness Hank can’t shake where he’s considers trying to think his way around this, somehow forget the whole entirely. But he knows when something gotten bigger than him, and when there are other people’s livelihood at stake.

Which means he really has to do this- cheeks pink or not.

He doesn’t actually know where he stands on the crush, though not because he doesn’t... ‘reciprocate’ it, exactly.

That wasn’t quite the issue...

He wishes more than anything he’d of opened his eyes to see what’d been so plainly before him- what Nines had tried to tell him- when he’d had the chance.

It wasn’t his fault, though, no matter what he was convincing himself of. He had plenty of reason to be doubtful about the whole thing- as obvious as it’d been after that Valentine’s card. How had he talked himself out of that?

Regardless, what mattered now was how he moved forward, now that there was no going back.

Hank looks over toward the sofa where Sumo’s tail pokes out at the end. It thumps softly, enjoying whatever attention Connor was giving him on the other side. The furry beast is a small comfort, but Connor needs Hank to make a decision soon- he needs Hank’s presence there and some peace of mind.

Hank doesn’t have the privacy to figure this out with his boyfriend before talking to Connor about it, and talking it over _literally_ behind Connor’s back doesn’t feel right, either.

Is he supposed to just sit right there, while they debate the logistics of where they stood on returning his feelings?

This was about as personal as it gets, and also as terrifying.

Connor is his best fucking friend, and even in another universe where that’s not the case, he still doesn’t deserve that kind of torture. Hank can’t do that to him.

It was time to be brave.

Nines looked at him expectantly, eyebrows slightly raised. It’s the closest Hank’s ever seen him come to making that stupid, goofy face Connor makes. Brows raised, forehead wrinkling, brown eyes wide.

Hank reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose. The thought of...’evaluating’ Connor like this, about what his romantic feelings are for him, makes his stomach twist- although not exactly unpleasantly.

It puts a strange sort of flutter in his chest to think about something like a potential interest Connor might have in him- _does_ have in him.

The realization is not as strange as Hank’s pretending it is.

He looks at Nines, and the other knows he’s searching for his approval. Hank wants to know what he’s thinking before he says anything. It’s a cop-out, but one Nines is merciful enough to give him it seems.

“Perhaps we should talk this out with Connor present. I realize we haven’t had time to work it out amongst ourselves, but he’s here, now.”

Truthfully, Nines had had plenty of time to, but he had to keep his wits about him. Hank was his partner in this, not Connor- though he’d really like to see that change- and whatever Hank was feeling came first.

“I think if we’re going to discuss our future with him, we should take advantage of his presence here.”

Hank was glad they were almost always operating on the same page, but was less thankful that Nines was more willing to get things done.

He swallowed, trying not to think about Connor’s hopeful brown eyes peering up at him, monitoring his vitals and making sure Hank was relaxed. Honest concern on his face.

He _was_ right here.

“Ok.” Hank mumbled.

The whole situation was screwed up, but he wasn’t about to make it worse while Connor was looking utterly dejected in his living room by leaving him out of this.

Hank cast one final look at Nines and nodded. The corner’s of his lips tilted upward, as the android returned to the sofa.

Nines doesn’t sit as close to Connor this time, but his proximity is welcome. Connor is eager to connect with someone again after that interface in the car. Being full to the brim and empty at the same time, then thrust back into reality where gravity exists and pulled against him in a way that made his body heavy and weak was terrible- absolutely terrible. He was doing everything he could to keep from collapsing into stasis on Hank’s couch.

The older man finally joined them, taking a seat in his computer chair and rolling it over to Nines’ side of the couch.

He’s nervous, not that Connor isn’t, but Hank is shit at this kind of thing- at feelings he’s put some effort into pretending he doesn’t have. He knows he’s going to fuck this up before they’ve all got their heads screwed on straight, and that’s not what any of them deserve.

“This is going to be very climactic for all of us.” Nines says, almost humorously.

Hank can’t even fake his artificial enthusiasm- he’s sitting here on the razor thin edge of his sanity, while Connor stares glumly at his hands.

If he didn’t know better, Hank would imagine Nines is having to suppress anything that could hinder the conversation- anything from his own feelings, to his stress levels, to his muted doubt. There’s no way for once in his metal-fucking-life that he’s managing to keep his cool about this... is he?

“I need to say a few things.” Nines begins, his eyes lowered to his lap. He’s the only one brave enough to speak right now, so it isn’t like they’re going to stop him. Still, his next words hold an air of caution as he turns his attention to Connor.

The smaller android perks up as much as he can under Nines’ penetrative eyes while exhaustion is seeping in.

“I want you to know that I enjoy your company, Connor.” He says casually, but it’s said with just enough warmth that Connor can‘t confuse the sincerity there.

He can’t help but look genuinely surprised by that, eyes searching deep in the aperture of Nines’ grey-blue gaze.

The bigger android smiles back at him just the tiniest bit, and Connor is easily lured in.

“I’ve always liked the idea of having a better relationship with you. You’re my predecessor, and yet, I feel like I’m not nearly as close to you as I ought to be. Production line aside. Of course, that’s not the only reason.”

Nines is demanding his attention with his enchanting words, so much so that Connor is slowly starting to forget that Hank’s watching them.

With Nines revealing that he would actually _want_ some kind of positive relationship to Connor- the man he admits he’s unfairly painted to be some kind of tyrannical bastard- who could blame him? The words felt impossible, Nines wanting to be _friends_ with him?

And yet he is perfectly serious, and perfectly earnest.

Nines continued.

“For one thing, you’re very friendly. It’s just in your nature to be outgoing.” And a large part of Connor’s programming, back when that dictated his personality.

Connor was well aware Nines admired this trait when it was useful to have, but to find it desirable seemed unlikely.

Nines and Hank worked so well together, because they were both unsociable, and didn’t care for big crowds.

Nines can see his hesitation, and nudges Connor with his knee- intending to slowly, but surely, cross the little space between them on the couch, one step at a time. Connor doesn’t pull away when they touch, but goes taut with anticipation.

“I don’t enjoy being outgoing myself, I’ll admit, but you’re full of life and wonder in a way that deserves to be appreciated. Hank and I could certainly use that balance in our lives.”

“Not if it means getting dragged to parties.” Hank says.  
“Believe me, he’s tried.”

Despite his attempt at poking fun, Hank is totally transfixed on what‘s happening right in front him.

Nines being so kind and cordial. It was... Hank couldn’t find a polite way to explain it. Just that Nines’ tender treatment meant to comfort Connor was _kind of_ a turn on.

In a very weird way.

Hank kept his mouth shut, not trusting his sarcastic comments to sound as unfazed as they were meant to be any longer with all this undefined emotion bleeding through him.

“ _I_ certainly appreciate it about you.” Nines insists.  
“Your intelligence, as well.”

He brushes his fingers just over the side of Connor’s hand. Again, Connor doesn’t pull away, but an odd tremor runs through him, settling at the base of his skull.

“You’re sharp as a tack, and your kindness often disguises you’re wit. It makes for a nice little surprise when that sweet face of your’s crucifies your opposers.”

Gavin came to mind first, but by far Nines’ favorite instance was when that ignorant little FBI agent tried coming for Connor’s badge. Indeed, that ‘sweet face’ was a brilliant ploy designed by CyberLife to appear harmless. Not so much, when Connor was being threatened it seemed.

Which made his willingness to roll over for Nines in his fantasies that much more confusing and _interesting._

_Very interesting._

Connor was flat out blushing, now. His heart was going 90 miles an hour, alerts were popping up that he was reaching critical core temperature. His stomach felt unusually full and loose at the same time, and there was a warmth snaking it’s way down his navel and pooling someplace _lower_.

Which wasn’t good, since now was even worse timing than when he’d gotten rowdy in the bullpen. He had everyone’s full attention this time.

“Oh, well... I-“ He blinked furiously, trying to relieve the pressure building in his head from the heat, the stark panic, and the rapid pop ups.

Nines had never complimented him like this before. Ever. In fact, no one had ever complimented him like this- and Connor felt boneless and heavy like he had in the car.

“Well...” He repeated uselessly. He was practically running on factory reset the way his mind felt utterly wiped. He couldn’t even get the words out- not that he knew what to say.

Nines ran his fingers up Connor’s wrist ‘bone’, and the smaller android’s stomach dropped out.

Hank could feel the heat come off him in waves, making it increasingly hard not to enjoy seeing Connor as the flustered one, for once.

This was a serious moment, though- regardless of the fact that his boyfriend was bordering on flirting with him just a foot away.

Nines turned to Hank, easy smile on his face. Totally unbothered by Connor’s floundering.  
“It’s true, isn’t it, Hank? He can be quite the opponent.”

The big man snorted.

“Con, you and Nines are the smartest smartasses I’ve ever met.” Hank didn’t even need to think about it. They were also the greatest people he’d ever met.

Aside from the half baked insult, Nines couldn’t agree more.

He nudges Connor’s knee, again, and turns to see him burning positively red, all the way up to his ears.

Nines had always been the sort to twist the knife, once it was in- for good measure, of course.

“You‘re practically fraught with compassion and, to top it all off, you’re genuinely selfless. You care so much for Hank.”

He drew his hand from Connor’s, again, alternating touch and space, so as not to overwhelm him. He doesn’t want to distract Connor from the honesty and passion of his words. He wants Connor to know without a doubt after tonight what Nines’ feelings are.

“You have no qualms putting other’s needs before your own. Look at how you’ve helped him, Connor. You’ve done so much.”

Connor blinked, suddenly looking less enthralled by what Nines’ was saying. The bigger android waited patiently for him to speak his piece, noting the odd look in his eye.

“... _Hank_ made the choice to turn himself around.” Connor says, brows furrowed. He stares at where Nines’ knee had come closer, as well as the rest of him.

“I was supportive, and I made sure I was there when I could be, even if he didn’t think he needed me. But, Hank ultimately made the change for himself-“

“ _Fuck that_!” Hank said loud enough to startle Sumo, poking his head out from around the couch. He didn’t care, he was perfectly offended by the shit Connor’d just said.

Honestly, the audacity-

“I wouldn’t have even tried to dig myself out of that shit hole if it weren’t for you, Connor. You gave me a chance to start over and _live,_ again. The shit I was doing after Cole _wasn’t_ living- it was a fuckin’ mess!”

The urge to reach out for Connor and shake the sense into him was almost unbearable.

Nines quietly wondered if it was the heat of the moment or Connor’s presence that had made it possible for him to use Cole’s name, just then.

Hank slotted his fingers together in his lap to keep them contained. Shaking Connor wouldn’t push the words through him- not if he really believed something different.

The android says nothing, because he knows how much he’s done for Hank, and how much Hank has done for himself- and of course, how much Nines is still doing for him.

He keeps Hank tethered, he reminds him of what’s important. He’s the warm welcome in Hank’s life that he can call home. Connor can’t let that go unacknowledged- he’s always had that to be thankful for Nines for, if nothing else.

He looks at Nines with his autumn brown eyes, something stirring beneath the surface. Something like adoration.  
“You‘re the one keeping Hank sustained, both body and mind. I did my part, but maintaining that kind of progress isn’t easy, and it’s not always obvious what you have to do. You deserve some of the credit, too, Nines.”

It’s almost painful to admit that, because Connor would be happy to be the one keeping Hank healthy- to keep him feeling fulfilled. But, Nines was his pillar now, holding the roof over his head and keeping it from caving in. Not to cut credit away from Hank’s incredible strength of mind, either. He wasn’t a weak-willed man.

He’d always had just enough fight in him to keep pushing, when he honestly thought it’d be better to just finish things- even after he’d been hurting alone for years and still had many months ahead of him without much promise, Hank had kept pushing.

Connor hadn’t thought about it before, the circumstances had never aligned like this, but now that it had, he thinks he should really be ashamed for letting himself fall into such a similar state as past Hank.

Misery and self-depreciation were always there at the back of his mind, running quietly, almost unseen, as he went about his day to day. It made it a bleak affair some days, mostly the ones where he felt like Nines and Hank had written him out of their lives- as if he had any right to be jealous of them.

What kind of relationship started with one person feeling entitled to a couple‘s happiness?

The loneliness blinded him, it made him forget his sensibilities. He’d seen what loneliness had done to Hank, although it’d affected him very differently. It was brutal.

It hurt Connor so much to see Hank close himself off, trying to keep the pain hidden on nights when he hadn’t given up the ghost or the booze. Connor hated it so much, and yet he’d gone and fallen down the same rabbit hole.

Would it hurt Hank the same way, if he knew?

Nines looks Connor over very seriously.

He doesn’t know what Nines is looking for, but he worries from the intensity in his glare that he might have said something to trivialize what Nines was saying. Connor didn’t want to undermine him- he just didn’t feel the praise on Hank’s fantastic success was for him to have.

The bigger android goes quiet. It only lasts a second, but in that time he plays devil’s advocate in his head in a heated debate.

Connor isn’t just anyone, and this lapse in confidence isn’t going to be overlooked, especially not over something as serious as Hank’s mental health.

His doubt must stem from somewhere deep, and Nines worries if it’s to do with his complicated relationship to his inferiority complex - which will present a problem if they intend to make something out of this, where Nines’ presence will have a constant impact- or if Connor is just further into his delusions and insecurity than Nines had come to understand. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Has he really convinced himself his role is so insignificant? Because Nines has been spared the hell of seeing Hank in that horrible state, because of Connor’s effort, because of his love. Even though he understood the possibility that it may make an appearance again one day.

Hank has become Nines’ life, for better or worse. Everyday, they grew a little bit stronger together. Connor’s love for Hank and his constant selflessness to keep him happy, which he believes means a life without himself in it- deluded as that is- has easily been enough to win Nines’ baser affections. Putting his boyfriend’s happiness first is really Nines biggest attraction.

Besides a few other less appropriate things.

And he fully intends to right these horrible misunderstandings of Connor’s.

Actions were traditionally more powerful than words, Nines reasons, so where to start with Connor?

Connor, who was surprisingly sensitive, drenched in doubt, worry, and self-destruction since he’d had his first awful inkling to lose faith in himself.

“What do you think, Hank?” Nines says in a low rumble.

“Is that all right?”

Hank was surprised to hear Connor’s response, and not happily so.

If he’d had any idea Connor could doubt the sacrifices he’d made for Hank from the moment he’d extended his hand, Hank would have spent more time making himself uncomfortable long enough to properly thank the man.

He should never have been so assuming that Connor hadn’t needed to hear it, and he should have never taken the easy way out by suppressing his feelings in the first place.

Old habits die hard, sure, but Hank withdrawing because he was ‘bad at feelings’ was shitty for what it’d done to Connor.

How could the other question everything he’d done for him?

Before Nines had been there, Connor was swabbing Hank’s mouth to make sure his levels weren’t lethal after he’d had a ‘few’ too many drinks- cleaning whiskey off his kitchen floor. He was the one unloading Hank’s gun and dutifully confiscating it for the night, enduring the yelling Hank would do in the morning once he found out where it’d gone.

There was a time, though blessedly brief, where Hank was still full of anger and regret, and struggled to just ‘let go’, but Connor never turned him aside- he never strayed. Even though he had every right, too.

The man was just discovering his deviancy, too, already caught up in a whirlwind of new emotions and feelings, and plenty of confusion, and he was sifting through Hank’s bullshit on top of all that.

He thinks about Connor’s recurring dream as a pet owner, how he’s so afraid he can’t translate the care and affection he must to an organic thing that needs it to thrive.

Hank’s never told him how *ridiculous* that idea really is, but it makes sense how the android ever entertained it, now that he knows Connor has rejected his role in the boundless care and affection he’d once given to Hank.

He’d wait on Hank hand and foot if he could of. He probably still would....

Hank almost has to excuse himself for a moment, but remembers that their are two other people here that he cares about a lot more that can’t deal with this alone. And, they shouldn’t have to.

“No... what he said is totally wrong.” Hank says _very_ firmly.

Connor batts his lashes at his hands in his lap.

Nines had been tracking Hank’s heartbeat since it spiked a few degrees. He knew Connor was listening to it, too- sure the other didn’t know what to make of it.

Probably wondering if whether Hank was angry or annoyed at him- or both- now.

However, they had already had this talk before, many times to varying intensity, and Nines knew what was eating Hank up about what Connor said- what he seemed to honestly believe.

This really was deeper than he feared. Connor was lost.

He supposed he wasn’t the first- humanhood did that to some androids. But he hadn’t realized how susceptible the original model of android/human perfection would be to it.

Not for the first time, Nines feels a sense of eminence he always does when he thinks about being part of Connor’s line. He was created from his platform, given all of the same features that made Connor the most advanced piece of technology dated. Though Nines’ successor model had been made to capitalize on all of those properties, as well as dominate them- he was not intended to replicate fraternization or establish ‘bonds’ with people.

From what he’d gotten of it, Connor’s handler was not so happy about the way he’d used his adaptation features to do such. Not that Nines couldn’t see why- the relationship it’d led to between him and the Lieutenant absolutely worked in tandem with his developing deviancy. Of course his handler would be disappointed by that.

Which was why Connor was truly stronger than he knew, carving his own path away from the shackles trying to hold him, keep his fate out of his makers’ hands. Nines was lucky out of the hundreds of thousands of models to be activated and given sentience that he’d had been given this body in the Rk line.

On top of every amazing thing that made Connor- and Nines’- form unmatched, he was capable of compassion, was fair and selfless, and loyal. To a fault Nines had realized, after he’d found those awful preconstructions of Connor’s.

The point was he could choose to be whoever he wanted, literally an unstoppable force.

And that gave Nines a bit of air-headed pride to be part of the same line as someone as influential and unique as Connor was.

So it seemed almost impossible to him, no matter how common this part of deviancy was, that Connor had ended up here.

He was so much _more_ than he knew.

“I’ve learned a lot about you, lately.” Nines began, his voice a bit rougher than he thinks he’s ever heard it. Unfortunately, though, he’s slowly succumbing to these new emotions of his that make being his usual cool self rather difficult.

Just tonight, because Connor needs it, Nines will give in to the way it softens him.

“I’ve learned things today I believe I could have corrected if I had paid closer attention. As I’ve said, I’ve always wanted a better relationship with you....” Maybe that would have been enough to do something about the injustice Connor was doing to himself.

Nines shifts a little closer.

Hank is still too lost for words to express himself yet, upset for having let Connor go on thinking this way for so long.

Nines wants to remind him that it’s not his fault, and neither is it Connor’s, but it’d be rather hypocritical right now since he’s playing the same ‘what if’ game with himself. Nines shouldn’t be talking about how it ‘could have been’, and ‘would have been’, if he’d just done this or that.

“Hm... What matters now is how you deal with the things meant to harm you. There is so much... ‘negativity’ inside you.”

Connor dips his head, looking absolutely ashamed of himself.

At the point Nines thought he could correct Connor’s behavior if he’d gotten to know him better, essentially saying it was ‘his fault’- which Connor knew down to his core his insecurities were never purposely Nines’ doing- he felt like a jerk.

Nines didn’t give the stewing android time to apologize.

“I’d like to be there for you to learn how to address such things in a _healthy_ way. This isn’t anything you can’t move forward with- and, I’d like to be there to help you, as you do.”  
Whether Hank ultimately agreed to take this someplace romantic or not.

Nines stops and turns to him.

Before he continues, he needs to know what his partner is really thinking.

He needs to hear Hank tell him how he wants this.

“Hank?”

The older man swallows. His gaze flutters between the two androids, sticking to Connor’s wide, nervous eyes. They look resigned, like he was expecting this to all go horribly wrong, and was just ok with that- just ok with Hank hurting him. Like he thought Nines would.

Hank then turns his attention to Nines, swallows his heart in his throat, and takes a deep, calming breath.

Fuck, this was difficult.

“I think... Well... ok.” It was vague, but Nines knew instantly what he meant. He stuffed his excitement down easily enough and encouraged Hank to continue- leaning back to subtly prompt him to turn his gaze on Connor.

The ensuing confession was for him, after all.

“Connor...” Hank began, feeling like the room was way too hot on a chilling night in early March.

Connor waited patiently, having no clue what to expect next. Hank didn’t look nearly as upset or ‘disgusted’ as he thought he’d be.

“I...uh, so... I like you, Connor.... You’re my best friend.”

_Shit._

Nines resisted the urge to growl at him, as Hank could clearly see his disapproval.

The big man awkwardly rubbed his hands on his knees and scooted forward in his chair.

“I also just... _like_ you. _Not_ just because we’re friends...”

Connor blinked, lips parting, then he whipped his head back at Nines to gauge his reaction, and found that he looked more annoyed than anything- at _Hank._

 _Not_ Connor.

So, he was ok with this?

Connor _wasn’t_ in danger?

Connor could tell Hank the truth? The exhausting, long kept truth?

He knows that he _should_ , whether he wants to or not. He knows it’s only right- whether Nines will actually turn around and end him for it, or not. They deserve to hear the sick secrets he’s kept from them from his own two lips- regardless of what Nines has already seen. It was a matter of dignity.

But the words catch in his throat, and he shuffles in his seat, all eyes on him. Connor can’t say anything more eloquent than-

“I-I like you, too.”

He looks down at his hands, wringing them a simulated red color, and begins bouncing his knee.

Well... it was out, now.

Nines looks at Hank as if to say, ‘Here it is’, and Hank wholeheartedly agrees.

‘Here it is’.

The blush on Connor’s cheeks, riding on the cusp of turning blue. The positively demure way his lashes flutter, as he stares down at his lap not in shame, but embarrassment. And, the sincerity in those few, simple words.

‘I-I like you, too.’

Jesus...

“Can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” Hank mutters, feeling like a dunce.

“To be fair, I think you did, but your terrible self esteem made you doubtful.” Nines chimed, helpfully.

Hank pushed his shin with the toe of his boot.  
“ _Thanks,_ honey...”

Connor nipped his lip, eyes screwing shut, trying to block out the burning embarrassment in him at the idea of being so transparent in front of his crush. So, Hank _had_ been suspicious?

He slowly opened big doe eyes, willing himself to see this through with as brave a face as he could muster.

He saw Nines reach out from the corner of his eye, over the little distance between him and Hank, and took his hand. Hank’s hand was so big, scarred in several places and sun dyed. He threaded his fingers through Nines’ pinkie and ring finger as easily as if it were instinct. For them it probably was.

He liked to coddle that little space. It was where Nines cracked and pinched his chassis when he got frazzled - as much as he liked to pretend he didn’t- and Hank felt it was his duty to smooth the little spot when given the chance to.

Nines hummed without bothering to hide the tender little smile he gave Hank, all while Connor was sitting right there, causing the smaller android to flush down to his chest at the sight of the intimate gesture.

He’d never witnessed this side of them before- this touchy-feely side, where they so shamelessly showed their affection.

Connor knew it existed, but he’d never seen. They were looking at each other like lovers do, allowing Connor in on this precious moment, while doing something as simple, but sweet, as hand holding.

He looked away, that familiar feeling like he was walking in on a private moment creeping up on him, again. Nines was hoping the little display was a clear indication that Connor was _more_ than welcome to these now.

“Hank, we need to make a decision.” He said much lower than Connor had ever heard him talk. Connor unconsciously pushed his knees together, but would swear to his dying day that he hadn’t.  
“Connor really needs to rest.”

“I’m- I’m alright, Nines.” He murmured, struggling to look at them.  
“I‘m well enough to- carry on the conversation.”

Nines stared longingly up at Hank for a second longer, as if trying to feed him the same calm he’d offered Connor through a meaningful look without the option to interface.

Then suddenly just as he turned his gaze on Connor, Nines’ other hand snuck out and took hold of Connor’s, squeezing it and making his stomach flutter and flop. He sunk his teeth into his lip, trying to push down the thrill in his ‘guts’ at how obviously the context of holding hands had changed.

Nines purposely held tighter when Connor shuddered.

They were all holding hands, Connor was a part of them for this small moment, if nothing else.

He sucked in a breath, failing to mask how much it was affecting him, which earned him a pleasant and intrigued look from the other men.

“Hank?” Nines hums.

He wanted Hank to be very clear now about exactly what he wanted moving forward.

Honestly, Hank wanted to be where Nines was with all this.

He could see his boyfriend was only perfectly approving of Connor’s feelings and what Hank returned of them. There was no jealously or uncertainty on Nines’ end, only welcome and praise.

He recalled how adamant Nines had been about bringing this issue to Hank’s attention the other night and decided Nines was so earnest, because he was actually _interested_ himself. It made sense looking back- Hank hadn’t become a police lieutenant for nothing.

They had a lot of work ahead of them.... but, Hank officially wanted to put the doubts behind him.

He wanted to wrap a hand around his partner- his work partner, bordering romantic- and comfort him.

Hank had always been fiercely protective of him, even when he’d ‘hated’ androids, and wasn’t ready to accept him- he’d cared since the lunatic went running across a busy highway. It was only natural that he wanted to protect him now, too.

But, it was more than that.

Hank wanted to embrace him in a way that was... to be honest.... a little bit possessive. A way that was definitely not work partner appropriate....

Connor was a sweet man, one of the only cops Hank knew that gave a damn about the people they were supposed to be serving, a genuine friend down to his biocore, and a brilliant mind- even if he did use it to listen to Freezepop albums.

And, that wasn’t even to say anything about Connor’s heart of gold- if he was a little too generous.

Hank wanted to push away the fear of rejection so painfully written on Connor’s face, and protect him. It was a bit difficult, though, when the thing he was protecting him from was his own doubts.

“Uhh.... I...” Hank swallowed.

All eyes were on him, and though nearly identical, couldn’t be more different in the way they looked to him.

One sharp and penetrating, reading right through him, and the other soft and uncertain, and so anxious.

Now or never.

Hank should laugh at how easily a couple’a sweet faces could turn him to mush.

“I _do_ like you, Connor. I care about you as much as I do Nines.” Hank didn’t bother sparing his boyfriend a glance to see if that had upset him, because he understood now that that was only exactly what Nines was hoping to hear. To have Connor cared for the way that Hank cared for Nines.

“I care about you both more than anything. I suck at showing it, I know. But, I’ve _always_ cared, Con.”

At Connor’s wide eyes and hanging jaw, Hank found the spunk to dig down deep into the same long lost courage he’d used to chase Nines.

Of course he cared about him, but that wasn’t the right word. That wasn’t what was being called into question here.

Hank steeled himself.

“I’ve been so guarded about this... Nines tried to tell me, but I was afraid, I think, and I’ve just been playing it safe.” And cheating all of them for it.

He sat at the edge of his chair, knee bumping with Nines’- looking at where they were all connected through Nines’ hold.

“Um, I... there’s a lot we need to talk about, but, yeah... I like you- I mean-“

Connor had a death grip on Nines, and he hadn’t even noticed.

Hank flushed red, thinking about how highschool this all was. He should have been dealing with this before it got to this fucked up point, but he’d been worried about how unfair it was to Nines. To be completely honest with himself, it also didn’t feel fair to Connor to be thinking about him like this for so long, either. For all he knew he was imagining his best friend in a way that was probably totally unrequited, and definitely improper- how was he to know?

If he had known there was something there between them...

Connor blinked those doe eyes at him, looking so captivated.

“I mean I _like,_ like you...” Hank said.

He knew he sounded like a dolt for repeating what he’d said three times already, but Nines only looked positively ecstatic.

When the shock wears off in the silence that follows Hank’s confession, Connor can only stare at him, eyes large and wondrous, and then quickly back to averting them.

He wants to say something, they can all see it, but words have eluded him- his body alight, head to toe from the fire in his belly.

He shushed the subtle tremble in his hands, even as Nines held it tight.

“Are you surprised?” The bigger android purrs, as if now wasn’t far too soon for him to be looking so smug about everything that had just happened.

Connor could only nod, left totally dumbfounded for the umpteenth time tonight.

“You didn’t think Hank was capable of wanting you, too, did you?” Nines didn’t need to ask- he’d literally _seen_ it. But, Hank, who had no idea, needed to hear it.

Nines turned back to watch the older man’s face contort into surprise, then worry. Another wave of possessiveness pumping through him, urging him to protect Connor from something, when there wasn’t even a threat anywhere.

‘Good’, Nines thought.

Connor pulled his hand from Nines with a little effort to rub at his wrists in an nervous gesture, trying to calm himself. He rubbed hard enough for it to become uncomfortable- clearly failing to help his nerves any.

He felt silly, of course- he essentially had nothing to fear.

Nines was here- _Nines_ of all people- coaxing these little confessions from them. Not mad in the slightest about Connor’s feelings, and shockingly, Hank’s either- even acting as an instigator.

Connor felt queasy and warm all at once.  
“I thought... I thought you’d be...”

“I know.” Nines had _seen_ exactly what Connor thought. That he’d be furious with him- that he’d set him straight for even daring to have such thoughts about his lover like that.

“Oh.” Connor said breathlessly.

Just, ‘Oh’. He had no idea how to deal with this...

A moment passed where the androids focused on the thump of Hank’s heart, unwinding to the sound of its soothing rhythm- as much as Connor could unwind.

Then Nines shifted so that they were touching, again, his hand reaching out for Connor’s wrist- making it clear he wasn’t asking, and that he was done allowing there to be space between them- and pulled it over into his lap.

The fingers of Connor’s other hand buried blunt nails into the thigh of his jeans.

Nines gave him a cheeky little grin, daring Connor to pull away, as he thread their fingers together all the way and a little tighter than he’d done with Hank.

Connor’s insides twisted up. He stared at their hands, his eyes wide, face warm.

Nines was surprised how fetching he found Connor bordering on bashful, rather than sulking around while he and Hank would talk.

If he could go back in time to his and Hank’s first Valentine’s when Hank gave him those chocolates, he would have called Connor over to share one, and began the long journey into sinking his teeth in Connor inch by inch, until the other android was _his_. And, how wonderfully this all could have gone if he’d started his pursuit with a romantic gesture- one as pure as chocolates ‘for his sweetheart’.

Would Connor like that?

Some heavy hand holding had Connor nearly clawing his way up Hank’s couch. What would Nines courting him like his beau do to him?

Nines would like to find out.

“I really wish I’d have given you one of those chocolates, now.” He said, not so subtly.

Connor thought if he followed that up with a wink he would die on the spot.

Nines simply couldn’t resist pushing the envelope a bit.

“I should buy you your own.” He says ‘thoughtfully’- as if he has to imagine how satisfying it’d be to treat Connor to the same attentiveness and care he treated Hank.

Hank arches a brow, torn between enjoying Connor’s blossoming blush and saving him from his menacing boyfriend when he was on the prowl- for someone other than himself. It was sort of strange being on the outside, watching Nines’ lay on the charm rather than be on the receiving end.

Hank had no doubt at all that Nines was on board with all of this- and, Jesus, Hank was starting to feel the excitement himself.

The way Connor ‘responded’ very enthusiastically, if a little shy, was somehow more rewarding to watch then when he was the target of Nines attention. Hank felt compelled to inch closer to the pair on his couch making eyes at one another.

“I like that idea.” Nines adds, nudging Connor’s knee, never breaking contact.

Connor feels far too warm for his nanofluid right now. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of it just evaporated right off due to the heat.  
“I’m, I, yeah...”

“Relax. You should rest your processors.” Nines quiets him, slipping his hand from Connor’s grip to reach up and push him down by his shoulder, getting him well and smushed into the sofa. Connor doesn’t fight, feeling terribly small, again, as he allows Nines to move him, his pump nearly flutters out of his aching chest at the strange way the slight incline exposes him to Nines. He’s practically dizzy with all the feelings bursting through his shell.

“You don’t have to be intimidated by me, anymore.” Nines says after a moment, and very seriously, but his voice is perfectly hushed. It’s soothing. His hand falls back to take hold of him, again.

All teasing aside, Connor still needs to hear what the subtle sweetness of Nines’ words are alluding to- that he truly doesn’t need to be afraid.

It may go over Connor’s head right now while he’s both overwhelmed and tired at the moment, but it certainly has Hank’s attention.

He still doesn’t know the full story behind Connor being _afraid_ of Nines.

“I know that, Nines. I...” Connor trails off, realizing he’s struggled to complete even a simple sentence all night.

He looks at Nines, Connor’s hand loosening in his grip- a subtle suggestion of his surrender.

“I just...”

“Can’t turn it off? Feelings are only natural, of course.”

At Connor’s temple blaring yellow, Nines loosens his hold on his hand that last little bit to offer Connor his space if he decides he needs it.

He’s worn and vulnerable, and it’s a horrible combination to have, while they’re talking about it.

Hank’s not sure if now is really the time to bring it up- Connor does look as put out as Nines had said he was when leaving the car ride, and he’s practically sinking in exhaustion into the couch at this point.

They have all the time in the world to talk about it, but the words are suddenly out before Hank can think better of it.

“What do you mean, exactly? What... ‘feelings‘?”

Nines had told him Connor thought the bigger android would _hurt_ him, but Hank rather be as vague about what he thought Nines meant by that as possible. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

If they choose not to tell him now, Hank knew that was probably for the best- they’d come to a healthy conclusion about they’re feelings for one another, already. Why keep digging?

Well, because he was wildly concerned about Connor having thoughts of his boyfriend hurting him, the man he was so protective of, and because Hank knew if the shoe was on the other foot, which it had been at one point, Connor would do anything in his power to relieve Hank of any horrible thoughts he was having.

Connor shifted anxiously, but to Nines’ pleasant surprise, didn’t pull his hand away, squeezing it tighter, even.

Nines felt... conflicted. For one, to be spilling Connor’s guts out while he was sitting right there, and for another to be running him over the rocks, again, after he‘d already exhausted him in the car.

Lastly, because he had a pitiful grip on whatever emotion he was feeling at having suddenly turned into Connor’s lifeline, rather than his death bell.

From what he’d seen barely an hour ago inside Connor’s head, this kind of trust was impossible for them, at least without several months worth of Nines proving to Connor those fantasies were deplete and untrue, and that he’d never do anything but care for him.

Instead of working as hard as Nines was fully prepared to to secure Connor’s faith in him, the smaller android was here clutching Nines’ hand like it was all that could protect him from Hank knowing the truth- holding it in a silent plea for him not to say anything. Nines was sad to say he’d have to disappoint him.

He squeezed Connor’s hand as reassuringly as he could and turned his attention back to Hank.

“At the station, Connor accidentally relayed some very sensitive information to me. The content is very graphic.” Nines cautioned. Hank didn’t shy away.

Connor’s ears tinged, his cheeks now glowing blue.

“Ok... What kind of information?” Hank asked warily.

Nines debates the best way to tell Hank what he’d seen, but he’d never been one to sugarcoat things or soften the blow.

Not when something this important needed to be said.

Nines considers Hank’s willingness to confess himself here tonight and decides he was ready to hear this. If he was willing to take the step forward, he was willing to make this work. And he had to know everything, if it was going to.

Nines held Connor’s hand so that his thumb could skim around his palm, trying to shush his fears, and turned his eyes over to Hank, knowing Connor didn’t need the extra attention on him during this fragile moment.

“Connor has some very oppressive thoughts about himself and his relationship with us. They border aggressive and restrictive at their best,” Nines stroked Connor’s knuckles with his fingertips, his skin pulling away to white even as Connor’s remained, trying to keep the extra protection there to shield himself.

“At their worst... they’re... abusive. And, violent.”

Hank stares at him. Connor can tell he’s trying not to give too much away, but Connor can read him, he knows his partner better than he knows himself.

The way his brows pinch the slightest bit, mouth drawn too thin, Connor can tell he’s not happy to hear this.

‘Not happy’ could easily mean disturbed and, baffled and, regretful-

Does he wish he hadn’t said those things to Connor now about liking him?

Is the offer off the table now entirely?

Connor’s skin exposes itself in Nines’ hand without him realizing, allowing him to have that small comfort of their bare shell’s touching.

Nines doesn’t hesitate, taking the chance to feed an increasingly familiar wave of calm into him. This time it’s concentrated on keeping Connor lucid and in the moment- making Nines quietly consider how ethical he’d been before to make Connor more susceptible to his prodding in the car when he’d used it to sedate him.

Hank let out a breath he’d been holding, pushing his hair from his face. Nines and Connor watched quietly, waiting for him to process everything.

Hank wants to ask Connor what he thought about him doing to him. He wants to know what Connor imagined when he thought about Hank in some way that was... ‘violent’ and ‘abusive’.

Jesus.... But, he also doesn’t.

He decides not to. It’s hard to hear as much as Nines has vaguely said of it, and he doesn’t know if he can stomach the details just yet.

Hank hums, just to confirm that he’s still processing this, and Connor’s concern overrides Nines’ attempt to calm him.

Nines pulls his hand up to his chest and starts to idly poke at his ‘cuticles’. With Connor’s skin pulled back, the indentions where his nails are lined are where Nines is poking. It’s an odd sensation, but it does a fine job of distracting Connor for a brief moment from his anxiety where Nines’ data influx cannot.

His finger slips right over the little divots with zero resistance. The lack of ‘skin on skin’ allowing him to glide right over the brilliant white plastimetal.

Nines thinks he would like to see more of him like this.

Connor is distracted by more than just the peculiar location of Nines’ focus- it’s also the first time any one has ever touched him like _this._ Especially another android.

It’s incredibly intimate, and he wonders if Hank is even aware.

Connor can hardly be bothered by it now, not when he’s experiencing, to his sudden and amazing realization, his first interface meant to be something sentimental.

He thinks he’s imagining it, projecting his desperation on Nines again in a whole new way- a shockingly positive one. But, then Nines confirms that the link is still open when he swabs the first lick of uncertainty from Connor’s side of the interface and draws it out of him- made partly easier by Connor’s surprise.

If he can’t calm him, Nines reasons that he can at least dull some of the worry by carrying the load.

Hank is struggling to put this into words, barely having made sense of it. He doesn’t know how Connor ended up to this point without him noticing.

Cop partners were a sacred bond in themselves. Working together to scrape brains off their shoes and keep each other from going home at the end of every day and succumbing to liquor poisoning, trying to forget the horrible things they’d seen. He thought he knew most everything about the guy he spent most of his life with and fought a revolution for, but he’d somehow missed this incredibly, terrifyingly important thing.

Jesus, Connor _needed_ him.

“I-I’m sorry if this upsets you.” Connor says, sounding too small. He doesn’t know how to even begin explaining himself, and he’s not sure he’d even have the courage to.

“It’s not something you can help.” Nines interjects.  
“You were scared, Connor. You thought there would be horrible consequences.”

Nines looks at Hank to check his pulse. The information had seemed to finally settle in.

He stopped poking at Connor’s fingertips and laced their fingers together, again. The fact that Nines was still interested in continuing his sensual hand holding made Connor’s belly flip flop, giving him a strange, dizzy high.

It was like they were trying- and delighting in- making it hard for him to focus.

“You were scared.” Nines says, again. “Though, I’m not sure what gave you that idea, frankly.”

He‘s being as cautious as he can. He doesn’t want to put words in his mouth, and stops himself there. If Connor doesn’t want to talk about it yet, Nines was willing to look past it for, now.

But Connor’s had something to say about it for a while now, and it’s mostly for himself to hear.

“I‘m not sure I know what gave me the idea, either.” His voice is hushed. He felt vulnerable admitting that he didn’t know something. He didn’t like not knowing.

But, he wasn’t going to make sense of the strange way his inferiority complex affected him, or how it would look moving forward, now that he’d experience Nines’ generosity.

“I don’t know how I got so mixed up...”

He doesn’t know when in his deviancy he’d let self-doubt and insecurity, things he’d never been designed for or programmed to have when failure hadn’t been an option, turned into something that’d become such a large part of him.

How very human he’d become.

Ironically, if that was the right word, Connor had decided the humanity he’d fought for at one point was much more detrimental to his wellbeing than when he’d been blissfully unaware of everything.

Perhaps, as Hank had unknowingly taught him, no matter how hard life was on him, Connor reasoned that was entirely par for the course. Being unsure, and ill, and exhausted, but striving to move forward was perhaps a bleak outlook, but an accurate one for him.

Like Hank, Connor just needed something to live for. The issue being the things he was fighting for were all but lost and unattainable to him.

Until now, to his immeasurable shock.

He doesn’t tell them that he believes he’s developed something as faulty as a disorder or corrupted code of some sort. He’s not even sure that’s right. What he’d bothered to do his research on didn’t apply to android health, and left him much less enthused about doing something about it.

“I’m going to talk to Josh about this,” Connor says thoughtfully, finding the strength to look Nines and Hank in the eye.

He’d certainly have to follow through with it now, and he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of asking someone for help. For all he knew, he was the first android to even have this issue, and it was so irrational. Connor wasn’t supposed to be irrational, it should be impossible for him to be.

“I know I have an ‘issue’ with how I handle things. I think... it’s just who I am.”

He swallowed the excess fluid in his mouth, sitting straight on the couch and looking very uncomfortable, despite Nines’ side pushing against him, and Hank’s warm, blue eyes looking at him, the slight droop of his lids softening his face.

“That doesn’t make sense, does it?” Connor adds as an afterthought. How can it when he doesn’t even know what’s wrong?

How do you normalize having such a violent disassociation as being one of your ‘unusual quirks’. The very nature absurd and so unlikely...

Hank can’t read his thoughts, the only one here even capable of that is Nines, but after hearing what Connor’s had to say, Hank doesn’t seem to look even remotely confused by it.

If anything there’s a strange twist of relief in his face, as if he finally understands something, and Connor wishes he did, too.

“It isn’t that simple.” The big man rumbles. He makes a face Connor’s thankfully all too familiar with- one that’s definitely not thrilled, but content.

“I’m sure, it isn’t that simple, Con.”

Hank cuts his eyes over at Nines, who looks genuinely uneasy as he continues to hold the interface. Connor’s worry consuming more of him than he’s comfortable with, but was determined to see it through.

Hank hasn’t ever seen him look so upset, even when they’ve got bullets flying past them and hostages at stake. Nines keeps his cool. Connor’s emotions are wearing on him, making it hard to keep his usual indifference- and that’s Hank’s cue to do his share of the heavy lifting.

His boyfriend needs a break, too, no matter what he says.

Hank turns to Connor, reaching over to push his hair away to give warm, doe eyes his full attention.  
“Whatever you’ve got going on, I just want you to be ok. No, ‘abusive’ thoughts.“

That doesn’t encompass it well at all, but Hank isn’t trying to say the perfect thing, just what he can make sense of. Connor looks thankful all the same that he said it.

“I mean, I think I get it- I really do. I’ve got my own demons. Not that I have to tell you that.”

Connor shuffles closer to Nines, trying to get closer to Hank. A base instinct in him telling him to comfort Hank whenever he got that waver in his voice and distant look in his eye. The way he’d done for months before Nines and they’re falling out- the falling out Connor admits was his own fault.

Connor nods instead of reaching out, trying not to distract himself from the importance of what Hank is saying.

“I mean you know what kind of horrors I’ve got locked inside me better than anyone..... We’ll have to do something about you, Con. It’s not healthy.”

Connor turns his eyes to his lap, missing the way Nines shoots Hank a positively radiant look.

He’s proud of Hank- for his insight, his understanding, which he’d expected no less from the man who taught Nines his own humanity, and for what he believes is Hank allowing the final wall to be torn down between them.

Nines didn’t have to fight for his deviancy, he didn’t have to war with his programming and the unknown- a developing intuition. But from what he’s heard and understood, Hank’s final wall coming down isn’t much different to that final push.

He _wants_ this.

He’ll fight for this.

Good thing nothing surprises Nines, as he’d definitely known it would be like this from the start. It was about time.

Hank can’t contain his need to be close any longer- he can see the need in Connor, too. He stands from the flimsy rolling chair, and moves over to kneel at Nines and Connor’s feet- at his poor knees’ protest.

“Hank, your Chondromalacia-“

“I don’t even know what that fuckin’ is.” Hank grumbles, then hushes Connor mumbling that he should ‘look it up, then’ by reaching out a hand for him to take.

He feels incredibly vulnerable like this, asking for touch, despite Connor being the one practically caged into the couch, again and at their mercy.

The android nips his lip, pump pushing against his chassis, as he slowly reaches back.

Their fingertips brush against one another and then his hand slides into Hank’s. It’s not the first time they’ve ever touched like this, but it’s the first time in the light of their confession that it’s ever held this kind of meaning. Connor’s ‘muscles’ tense. The flutter in his belly is almost unbearable, even with Nines pushed into his side and keeping him grounded.

When Hank speaks, it isn’t at all like the hesitant, nervous way Connor’d heard him all night, but Connor sinks right into it- despite it reminding him out of his depth he truly is.

“Listen, I don’t know shit about how something like this even works. But, I reckon as long as we all care about each other and have feelings like these, we’ll do just fine. Yeah?”

Connor stares back at spring blue eyes suddenly so sure, forgetting how to keep his artificial airways in cycle.

Hank back peddles the tiniest bit.  
“I mean, assuming you want to-“

“I do!” Connor blurts out.

He clamps his mouth shut, heat prickling beneath his cheeks. At one point does plastimetal begin to melt?

Connor knew the precise temperature, but that wasn’t the point here.

Hank arched a brow, turning to Nines- who looks like the cat that caught the canary- and receives a confirming nod from him as well.

So, they’re all on board with this.

Everyone’s on the same team.

Connor looks to Nines to make sure his little outburst wasn’t poorly perceived and is blessed, or cursed, with steel grey eyes looking back and pinning him. They hold nothing but affection in they’re piercing depths, and Connor does little more than succumb to their command to give in to them.

He grips the men’s hands where they’re holding Connor tight and turns his face away. It’s difficult while Nines is on one side and Hank’s in the middle, but he’s not trying to hide from them anymore- it’s more to stave off the heat in his cheeks and his throat, until he can find the strength to speak, again.

They wait patiently for Connor to come back to them, blinking profusely and chewing his lip. One watches him with a dopey smile, and the other with something a bit more controlled, which makes it that much worse. Connor can’t cool himself down.

Nines finds he is perfectly fine with that. This Connor, full of flushing, shy little looks is becoming his favorite Connor. It explains _so_ much.

Hank is surprised how strongly a few earnest words have affected him, but is equally as enthralled to have Connor on his couch, blushing because of something heartfelt and honest he’d said. He hoped it was heartfelt- Connor deserved it, but Hank supposed he’d have plenty opportunities ahead of him to get better at having a more sensitive partner in his life-

“Jesus... Fuckin’ A.” He utters.

Hank can hardly believe how Connor’d ended up here on his couch with a startling little love confession merely a day after he’d sat in the same spot and buddied up with them to watch reruns. But he’s even more baffled that he just thought of Connor, of all people, as his ‘other partner’.

Hank’s surprised how enchanting the whole thing is- like some sort of fairytale.

The beautiful guy that sits a foot away from him every day at work who’s been his closest confidant and best friend has _feelings_ for him.

 _Romantic_ ones.

On top of that, there’s his sweetheart, Nines, just...totally gung-ho about this.

Hank literally has the two hottest men on planet earth lusting over his old, tired ass, and they’ve actually _admitted_ to it.

Jesus. _Holy shit_.

“You’re knees creaking, yet?” Nines says then smiles purposely subdued.

“You tell me, you have such good hearing, apparently.”

“Hardly so, after months of your snoring, my ears have been permanently damaged.”

Connor tries to lose himself in the thick flow of their baritone voices, his belly tying itself in knots. His hands held and coddled by the men of his literal dreams, of his most ardent affections, petting them and smoothing their thumbs around his palms.

He’s getting dizzy- stabilizers as wayward as a prototype built without accelerometers. How embarrassing.

He has to focus his attention away from how the texture and weight of Hank’s hands feel, failing fantastically to keep from storing it away to his memory bank.

He doesn’t mean to, but the giddiness of their confessions have affected his sense to have some decency. He can’t keep his mind from creating new fantasies about them. He’d been too afraid to file away the information before, guilt controlling him.

But, then that big hand scratches around Connor’s fabricated fate lines, over his ‘love’ line in particular- tracing it back and forth and admiring its perfect imperfection- and Connor’s tummy jumps like he’s rolling down a hill.

Nines feeds another wave of calm through him, and Connor nearly falls out when he realizes the link is still open.

Which was perfectly embarrassing. What kind of detective android was he? His situational awareness was officially nonexistent.

“Connor.” Nines says, and it sounds so good now to hear him speak his name like that- and he hadn’t even been particularly sweet about it. It just sounded so important, now- so special.

“You need to rest. You’re energy is critically low.”

“Yeah.” Hank agrees, standing up with a hand on Nines’ knee, unmoving under the brunt of Hank’s full weight.

“Do you want a ride back to your place?” Hank offers, and Nines is quick to interject.

“I think he should stay the night.”

Connor’s head snaps over to Nines, mouth shut tight and brows raised. It’s that stupid look of surprise Hank’s -not so secretly, anymore- infatuated with. It wrinkles Connor’s forehead and makes the many freckles of varying darkness crease and disappear. It’s so hard not to want to protect that dumb face and smooth those lines out for him.

“I rather not impose.” Connor says hurriedly.

Nines frowns. He doesn’t want to push, he remembers how that went last time. But, he isn’t keen to put some kind of distance between them after all that’s just happened, either- especially when he’s finally made some progress.

More then some- tonight was monumental for all of them.

So, perhaps... he’d do well to let it go....

“I doubt I’ll get much rest tonight, anyway, and I don’t want to keep you awake.” Connor says.

His belly is full of fuzzy little moths flapping their tiny wings and making the inside of his chassis itch. It’s maddening. And it only gets worse every time he flexes his fingers and is reminded that they’re trapped between the hands of his two companions, keeping them warm for him and close to their chest’s.

Connor tries to clear his throat, but it comes out squeaky.

Hank snorts at the thought of any of them getting sleep tonight. But Connor’s fidgeting, as endearing as it is, is probably a good indication that Hank shouldn’t try to push him. The guy had been shoved through the wringer quite literally since his morning had started, and it’d only gotten crazier for him as the day went on.

He needed some space. Probably.

Maybe he should just be sure Connor understands his options here.

“It’s fine if you wanna go home.... it’s also fine if you wanna stay. Maybe we should just take tomorrow off.” Hank says not so subtly, with a ‘casual’ little shrug thrown in.

Nines scoffs, although pleased to have some of his darling’s wonderful rebelliousness make an appearance on Connor’s behalf. Especially at the thought of what they could accomplish together with a whole day to themselves.

“Captain Fowler wouldn’t let us all off. Besides, that’s rather irresponsible of you, Henry.”

“Is it more irresponsible than sitting at my desk and doing nothing all day, ‘cause my heads all full of shit?”

“That’s normal for you. We can pick this up tomorrow night- if that’s agreeable with you.” Nines says, turning back to Connor, ignoring Hank’s offended gawking.

Connor nods eagerly. He’s not entirely thrilled to go through the stress building up to another meet like this. He barely managed to get through work as it was. But, that’s part of being an adult, and at least Connor knows that whatever is coming next isn’t going to be dread and doom.

They’d literally confessed to him.

Connor is suddenly desperate to get somewhere private and unravel that knowledge to its fullest extent. Even putting that into words felt both impossible and spectacular.

“Your place?” Nines hums so smoothly, it feels like it’s a pick up line- not that Connor would know what one of those sounds like, but he’s assuming it’s as warm and inviting as that just was.

The android nods, again. He might be much more in control in his own apartment- though, much less at home. It was a space he could manage, and if he wanted to finish a literal sentence, again, without all the awkward gaping and blushing, he figured that would be his best bet.

That said, he’s well aware that he won’t be relieving any of this stress there, tonight. He’s so wound up and full of energy, he can’t imagine anything calming him down.

Maybe one thing....

Connor sucks his lower lip in, face blue.

“I-I should get going.” Before he started sporting a halfie.

“We have... work in the morning.”

Nines doesn’t say anything about the sudden strain to his systems coming over the link or the glitch in his voice.

Hank helps Connor from the couch, as Nines’ finally lets his hand drop. Connor’d taken enough of a beating for one night, and Hank knew he shouldn’t be surprised about how the stress would take its toll on him.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow, alright. Let’s get you home so you can rest.”

“I’ve called for a cab, already. Unless you’d prefer we take you ourselves.” Nines offers, standing to join them.

Connor has had plenty of time to think about it, plenty of time and in lots of detail, but Nines and Hank look _so much_ taller when they’re standing less than a foot away from him. There’s hardly that much of a difference, but Jesus, Connor’s fixating, and he doesn’t even care.

He’s on an overdose of feelings and thrill, while the two finest men from Detroit to California box him in with their easy smiles and soft words.

Connor disconnects the blood flow to his lower extremities in a risky last ditch effort to keep some dignity, until he could be in the safety of the cab. Or at least out the damn door.

When had he become so weak?

Was this the result of what he’d be like with his feelings returned? Putty in their hands and lacking all and any self decency?

“Thank you, that’s, um, not necessary, though.”

“Will you be safe getting home?” Nines asks, as if Connor isn’t the capable powerhouse with precision aim and inhuman strength that he is.

The question is more for show then serious concern.

It’s a little way for Nines to show Connor he cares for him, and the other is almost dumbfounded by Nines bothering to expend the pointless energy. He didn’t say or do anything without a point to it.

Was this what it all meant to have Nines’ confidence in him? The kindness he only ever showed to Hank versus the callous disinterest he tacked the rest of the world with. Was this the bizarre and overwhelming euphoria that came with Nines’ affections?

Connor had never entertained what Nines’ approval would be like, much less his enthusiasm.

He was powerless to think rationally how much he was probably blowing this out of proportion. Simple generosity shouldn’t be some special sort of thing, he knew that. That was exactly why he tried his best to treat everyone exactly how they deserved.

But when Nines skims his hand over Connor’s arm, reminding him to stay in the moment, to stay there with him and Hank, Connor doesn’t think he can bother to care how detached from his sense it’s all making him.

“Yeah, I’ll- I’ll be fine. Yes.”

“Maybe you should check in with Nines, when you get there.” Hank says.

Hank’s concern isn’t for show- he has much less confidence in Connor’s ability to stay out of harm, after the many opportunities Connor’d had to show him otherwise, the daredevil. It didn’t just end with running over the fucking highway.

Then Connor’s forehead did the stupid, endearing wrinkle thing, and Hank couldn’t refrain from reaching out, mirroring his boyfriend, placing his wide palm on Connor’s forearm.

Connor checked the status of the thirium flow he’d blocked off. He was fine for another 10 minutes before he needed to join the connection or retreat to the cab.

With Hank closing in on him, looking scarily close to pulling him into a goodbye hug, Connor thinks fixing the flow isn’t an option, yet.

“I’ll be safe getting home.” Connor insists, _making_ himself sound more confident than he is.

He can’t help but feel like he’s acting a bit childish being so easily overwhelmed, looking like an anxious little kid, but he’s hardly in his right state of mind to fix himself.

This is the most attention they’ve ever given him, and in the absolutely best case scenario- and Ra9, he needs to go think about this.

He needs to go home and sleep so he can wake up later and make sure this was all real and not some indulgent preconstruction he was having, while bleeding out in an alleyway somewhere.

And, he was actually going to think about everything this time, _without_ letting his head get all confused.

The other head.

“I’ll see you both in the morning.” Connor says.

Nines hums, not entirely willing to let him go just yet, and his voice sounds so deep when they’re this close. Did it drop a few octaves on purpose?

Connor focuses on Hank then, noting that he still smells strongly of botanicals, lavender and honeysuckle, and Connor wants to lean in. But, Hank intimidates Connor in a way entirely unlike how Nines does. He makes Connor scared of what he might do to the big man, if given the chance.

He ducks his head, thinking how terrible an idea it is when a pair of broad chests, one in awful bright zigzags, and one in stark white pleat, come into view.

“Well, we won’t keep you anymore.” Nines says, slowly relinquishing his hold on Connor, just as he’s getting riled up, again.

Hank skirts his fingers up over Connor’s arm to his elbow, then they fall away.

Even without their touch on him, Connor feels encompassed and kept warm. Their presence a reminder, and their parting smiles a promise.

Connor isn’t really going home alone tonight.

They walk him to the door where they stop to make sure Sumo gets his pat goodbye this time, before Connor reaches for the doorknob, body light and worn to the bone at the same time.

Just as he does, Nines pats Connor’s back, asking for his attention- as if he’d deny him.

Connor looks over as Nines flanks him at the door, lips slightly parted.

“Try to rest, Connor. You’ve been through quite a bit of stress tonight.”

“Of course.”

“You _will_ go home and rest, won’t you?”

Connor swallows, struggling to meet his gaze.

He feels foolish gaping at him there while Hank is just watching them, but he’s getting a weird feeling all at once.

“I... yes?” It comes out as a question, but there‘s an obvious eagerness coming from Connor to sate him.

He looks into Nines’ steel eyes, right through the sternness there and into something oddly approving.

Connor’s lips part carefully around a, “Yes. I will, Nines.”

The other nods, Connor follows the movement, feeling like he’s missed something while Hank watches curiously from behind.

“Good. Because, you want to be good for me, right?”

Connor stalls out for a minute before Nines words set in. He can see the artificial muscles in Nines’ jaw lock, forcing a smile from his face. He wasn’t angry, but he was serious. Connor thought he was going to fall out of his meta shell.

Hank couldn’t hide his surprise at Nines’ words, either- and then Connor just nodded ever so shyly, and Hank could hardly get a grip on his sanity.

What the hell did he just miss...?

Nines finally lets his smile through, nodding his approval at Connor, again.

He reaches over and opens the door for him, drawing his hand away from Connor’s back and watches him go down Hank’s frizzy, unkept lawn looking awestruck.

Connor doesn’t turn around or say goodbye, again, walking in a daze towards the cab Nines has called for him.

They wait for Connor to climb inside and go on his way, before Nines closes the door and purposely ignores the stunned look on Hank’s face.

Nines just couldn’t help _pushing_ things, and that’s not good.

Even after he’d sworn he wouldn’t go and scare Connor off, again, he just had to push again.

Call it his ever growing ego, but he just _knew_ this wouldn’t be like last time.

And he was abundantly thankful he was actually right. That was a huge risk he simply couldn’t resist taking.

In all his picking and scratching at Connor’s brain, the horrid fantasies gave life to something both frightening and interesting, Nines hadn’t realized at the time.

It’d only struck him just then that maybe a rougher hand was not entirely unwelcome. The difference being the kind of discipline that Connor should receive from him- not punishment. And it didn’t mean it necessarily needed to be anything too rough for that matter.

“ _What the hell was that_?” Hank said when he couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.

“A theory I have.” Nines says plainly, moving on to get Sumo some clean water and dinner.

“What kind of theory involves talking to him, _like that,_ Ni?”

“Hank, please. I know what I’m doing.”

Hank shut his mouth. The last time he didn’t trust Nines, the fourth demension opened up in his living room over the course of an hour and a half where time collapsed in on itself, and Hank’s undesirable, old ass got a love confession from his best friend. He’d learned his lesson.

“Jesus.” He sighed, watching Nines move gracefully around the room.

“Now, Connor’s your experiment, too. What have I done?”

“Everything wonderful that you could have possibly done. I’m so proud of you, Love.”

Hank crosses his arms and sizes him up, watching Nines work quietly to tidy the mess of papers he’d left on the coffee table the night before during his protest.

Hank isn’t done talking about this.

“Alright, don’t tell me, now... but, I want in. Whatever it is.”

“Oh, you certainly will be. Connor needs us both for this.”

Hank’s jaw hangs open. Connor ‘needs’ them for something?

  
“....Ok, I lied. What the _hell_ are you talking about? Tell me everything.”

“All in good time. I need to be certain, first. This is some very delicate information.”

“You fuckin’ robots. You can’t just leave me in the dark about whatever the fuck that was.”

Nines left the papers and went to stand at the edge of the hallway, signaling for ‘bedtime’.

Hank was too whipped not to follow, but refused to let this go just yet.

He started unbuttoning his top and pulling it along with his undershirt over his head, just so he didn’t have to see Nines’ victorious smile as he led them to their love nest.

Hank idly wonders after the amazingly strong display of trust and care in their relationship tonight if this would mark the beginning of Nines moving in. Hank certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea- less gas for carpooling in the morning, more time to waste finding his shoes and getting blowjobs, and yeah... maybe he also just wanted Nines to come home with him everyday.

Having a warm body in bed was... admittedly pretty great.

He was down to his boxers by the time he reached the doorway to their room.

“Come on, out with it. You asked Connor if he ‘wanted to be good for you’. That’s fuckin’ creepy, Ni.” Even for his beloved dead-eyed shark of a boyfriend.

Nines has the audacity to look annoyed, like it’s all really obvious.

But, Hank will not be teased tonight after exposing having such intense feelings for someone within an inch of his life. He was old, and he could only take so much.

“ _Ni_.”

The android sat on the edge of the bed to begin untying his shoes.  
“Hmm, are you really put off by it? What if Connor was in to that sort of thing?”

“Honey, I only just found out the guy has feelings for me a few hours ago.”

“No, I distinctly remember telling you this the other day.” Nines said, pointing his finger at nothing in particular. And, ok. Nines had him there.

“Ok, _yeah._ And I didn’t listen, I know. But what are you talking about-“

“I think Connor would benefit to have some of this negative energy turned into something positive and reassuring... Maybe it’s too soon to incorporate what exactly I have in mind. I’m not trying to take advantage of him.”

Nines pulled his socks off, and Hank notes their cat pattern. Not unlike Connor’s crazy dog print binge.

“Well... he seemed to like it....” Hank said thoughtfully after a moment. Connor looked confused for a minute there before he sincerely agreed with Nines’ ‘assessment’- that he indeed ‘wanted to be good’.

“Jesus. This is too much for me.”

Hank left for the bathroom with a clean shirt firm his dresser drawer.

There was still so much to process, and without Connor’s big, brown eyes there to feed him courage, Hank was left in the aftermath of the heart pounding insanity of what’d just happened tonight.

He’s not uncertain of what he’d said, he’d meant every word of it and more. It was just that his feelings for Connor had never felt like something he should explore.

When the familiar twinge of something warm and tender began to stir in Hank’s gut, he snuffed it out. Mostly with drinks and hard work- during the strange timeline in his life where Connor’s developing friendship had encouraged him to work harder and more diligently for a time. Then came Nines, his shipment into the department, and his work on the missing child case.

Hank was instantly infatuated. And yes, admittedly for the wrong reasons.

Nines was a clean slate, and a pretty good Connor for Hank’s purposes.

Lusting after him was wrong and indulgent, the most shallow, most despicable thing Hank had ever done in a long time.

After Hank accepted what he was doing, he felt like a skeeze and a bastard.

Nines went along with all of Hank’s prodding and pursuing, too. One thing led to another rather quickly- and yet the way he was handling Connor was so much more careful and thoughtful.

How fair was that to Nines?

They needed to talk.

Hank _needed_ to be sure.

He washed his face with cold water and threw his shirt on, and then emerged from the bathroom. As always, Nines could instantly see something was wrong.

“Is there something on your mind, Lieutenant?” He said with perfect innocence.

“Like you don’t know.” There was a million fucking things on his mind.

Hank is warmed by Nines’ playful sarcasm all the same.

He crawls onto the bed where Nines is reclining like a big jungle cat, down to his shirt and boxers. He’s as overloaded and stretched thin as Hank is right now, and Hank knows his boyfriend well enough to see as much- only Nines is handling it infinitely better than him. No surprise there.

Hank throws the covers around and settles in next to him, back to the headboard, and Nines is already moving into position to rest his head on Hank’s shoulder.

“You want to talk about it?”

“What do I win if I do?”

“Mm, self-respect.”

“That’s low, Ni. I feel so attacked in my own goddam bed... can’t believe I fuck you on here.”

Nines can see Hank is becoming a bit too overwhelmed- disguising himself in cursing- and needs some comforting. He needs to be reminded that there’s still something stable and sure under everything that’s suddenly changed between them tonight.

Hank snuggles in to kiss Nines at his temple, receiving a thankful little hum.

“Well, you can rest now and think about it later. Or you can tell me what’s bothering you. _Or,”_ Nines rolled onto his back and pulled his leg up, slinging it over top of Hank’s shins and pinning him there with dead weight.

“You could run away from your problems entirely, and I won’t even shame you for it. I’m responsible enough for the two of us.”

“ _Ha_. ‘Responsible’. You left Reed with paperwork following an assault to come have dinner with me, once.”

“When you put it like that, I sound like I’m good at time management, too.”

Nines hiked his leg over Hank’s knees, and up to his thighs, his legs splitting wide at the knee. He was giving Hank a show.

“Well, _you’re_ feeling pretty good, looks like.” Hank hummed.

”Don’t see how after a fuckin’ trip like that.”

He would be reeling from this for weeks to come.

Nines grinned.

“You don’t, hm? The other hottest boy in the whole world just made eyes at you and confessed to having feelings for you, and you can’t think of any reason to be excited?”

Hank eyed the swell between Nines’ legs.

He could control it, he could keep a handle on his arousal- something that infuriated Hank since they’d first started that little game of their’s to make the other horny at work.

Nines could just shut it off and keep it quiet, while Hank would be raging hard and raring to go.

Jesus.... working around Connor those days without him knowing was a fuckin’ challenge.

He made Nines tell him exactly what Connor had picked up on of it, if anything. Now Hank wonders what Connor must have been doing to distract himself from them when Nines admitted he’d noticed Hank’s heart rate and pupil dilation at one point.

God, that must have been terrible for him, thinking about them, _wanting_ them, and having to just watch.

Having to tear himself away from his feelings and mind his business.

Hank is swiftly pounced upon and shuffled down the bed and onto his back. He stares wide eyed up at a smirking Nines before he even knows what’s happening.

“What are you thinking about?” Nines says more firmly this time.

There was no sense in ignoring it- not when he’d reached the point he was gawking at Nines’ hard cock, instead of sitting there overthinking shit. He normally would stall out for only a moment before he turned absolutely predatory on the big android. Nines could see he wasn’t himself.

“I was thinking about how _fucked up_ it was Connor figured out we were getting handsy at work that one time.”

“Ah...”

Nines looks rather perturbed by that, too.

Hank locks his legs over his calves and tries to force him to roll again while he’s distracted. Nines doesn’t budge, looking smug as ever.

“Yes, it is a bit disturbing to imagine Connor’s destress at the time.” He says seriously.

Hank secretly hates that Nines confirms exactly what he’s worried about.

Poor Connor. Jesus...

“No matter, though. We will more than make it up to him when we give him the same treatment.”

Hank gapes up at him like a fish out of water.

Of course, that’s where all of this was headed, that was part of a relationship for most people. But, saying it out loud about his partner, and best friend, and once designated ass pain when he played the annoying little poodle, was dizzying and unreal.

“God, Ni. You’re too brazen for your own good.” Hank murmured breathlessly. The thought was thick like fog in his brain- Connor could and would- if he wanted to- be... ‘active’ with him.

Nines would normally take that as a challenge, but with Hank distracted, it’s more like an opportunity to tease him.  
“So, do something about it.”

Hank scowled, trying to roll him, again, expecting the attempt to fail while Nines was on his guard like this. He settled for rolling his hips up to brush both of their hard cocks together instead.

The shudder and groan Nines hives were well worth it.

“That’s more like it.” He says shakily.

Hank hardly suppresses his own moan at the sound of Nines’ voice all strained like that. He did it again, just to see his steel eyes go heavy and shut- heat pumping through his core.

“Are you still worried?” Nines mumbles, moving with Hank’s hips.

The bigger man was slowly losing the will to keep the conversation going.

“Yup, still worried...”

“So we’ll talk about it tomorrow when Connor’s present. Until then, I’ll buy you some peace of mind- if you’d like.”

Hank _did_ like.

He ground his cock into Nines’, pushing up with his feet flat on the bed, hoping to finally change their positions.

“And, how- Mmph- would you do that?”

“With my _mouth_.”

Hank growled.

Big hands, calloused from years holding his pistol grip, reach up to catch Nines by the hips and force him down, _hard_.

His straining cock rubs into Hank’s thigh and makes Nines curse so beautifully before he tips forward into the mattress. Hank gets a mouthful of the firm pecs under formfitting cotton, and chuckles.

His hands move down to cup Nines’ firm ass, giving it an admiring squeeze, then pushes him back down into his lap where his bulge protrudes.

Nines turns his face into Hank’s cheek and moans. The weight of Hank’s cock curving up against his ass does anything but cool him.

His systems are stressed, he’s just come off his first, and incredibly odd, high of a massive wipe on another android’s data bank, and Hank isn’t nearly as ruffled as Nines would prefer him to be. Frustrating.

There’s a not so acceptable way to fix that, and since Nines just loves pushing people’s limits, especially Hank’s, he doesn’t even try to resist.

“Can you imagine Connor here, like _this,_ Hank?”

Hank’s breath hitches, his hips stop rolling.  
“Jesus, Nines, wha-“

“Connor in the bedroom with us for the first time... Can you _imagine_ it?” Nines moves down to nibble Hank’s throat.

The big man’s cock gives a confused twitch, as it’s rubbed between Nines’ soft cheeks.

“Ni, that’s... we probably shouldn’t talk about that.”

“Hm. Are you going to be like this when it actually happens?”

Hank pulls away. Nines takes it as his cue to sit back on his lap and take matters, literally, into his own hands.

God knows Hank could doubt himself to death if he didn’t.

“That’s only the natural progression of these things, you know. Assuming you’re interested in Connor that way.”

“Are you... do _you_ want... uh...”  
Hank couldn’t hide his face like this. Not with Nines pinning his trunk and cupping his cock.

“Do... you?” He finally pushes out, acutely aware Nines just wants to watch him flounder.

“Hank, if you’re comfortable with it, then I sincerely am, too.”

“Because you want to make me happy?”

“Yes.” Nines sneaks his hand around to grasp at Hank’s clothed cock and give it a _squeeze_.  
“And, because Connor looks amazing when he stares at my throat like he wants to _bite_ it.”

Hank’s eyes fly open.  
“Excuse me, what- _when_ did _this_ happen?”

“Hmm, you didn’t notice?” Nines pulls him free through the slip in his boxers. His hand working over his head, down his thick shaft.

“It was just the other night.”

Nines had been diligent not to draw attention to Connor’s staring, so yes, Hank hadn’t noticed.

The big man swallowed, going still beneath the android, signaling for Nines to continue while Hank was on the ropes.

“He looked at my throat after I’d popped my shirt open a few buttons, right here-“ His fingertips reach up and brush the skin of Hank’s throat, down the strong tendon, to the dip between his collar bones- just below his shirt‘s neck hole, bunching the fabric.  
“He stared at me right there like he was thirsty enough to drink the blood from my veins.”

Hank’s dick, his traitorous dick, gave a fierce twitch, and Nines could feel Hank pulse in his hand.

He contained his joy, trying not to show his hand, yet.

“His pump was nearly stuttering in his chest.”

“Jus’ from starin’ at your throat?” Hank slurred. Nines pumped him in a teasingly loose grip.

Hank could feel his balls drawing up.

Nines only nodded, not trusting himself to keep from getting ruffled at the thought of Connor like that himself.  
“He made eyes at you, too.”

He assumes. As far as seeing it, Connor was much too terrified and much too careful to let something like that slip at the time.

Hank narrowed his eyes up at him, regretting how he’d let Nines’ obvious attempt to get him riled work so well, as he gave into a few shallow thrusts, rutting up into him like a teenager.

“You’re just trying to make me horny.” Hank hissed.

“Aren’t you already?”

“This another sick game of control your boyfriend?”

“Hm, not this time, no. I’d shut my cock off if I wanted to torture you.”  
And Nines would have. He was shameless.

“Just...gauging you, I think.”

“Oh, is _that_ all?”

Nines pushed past the iron grip Hank had on his hips and dove in to lock their lips together. Hank, more than receptive, let his hands wander around Nines’ sides and up his back.

Nines pushed down again, burying his prick in Hank’s plush thigh and moving it slowly to create a _delicious_ friction.

Hank smiled against his lips.

When Nines took what he wanted, Hank was near helpless to deny him.

Not that he’d want to.

“I wanted to see how you’d feel about it.” Nines murmured into his mouth, licking the line of Hank’s teeth.

“What better way, than for your dick to tell me?” Nines focused on the lovely gap in his teeth. One of many things Nines found superbly Hank, and unexplainably comforting.

At Nines words, Hank instantly lost some of his steam.

He _had_ given it some thought before. Connor interested in him in a ‘sexual manner’, though any thought was probably too much thought.

Hank remembered what those fantasies of Connor were like when he’d once entertained them- much different from what he thought about with Nines, and not exactly anything he was proud of.

Nines was offering him the chance to think about it, now, and in the safety of his own mind, it was hard not to indulge in the slinky thoughts of Connor clinging to him with sweet words, bashful little smiles, and shaky moans.

Long legs wrapped around his waist, his big hand rubbing Connor’s abdominal plates, looking for the lines in them. The android’s chocolate colored hair flopped over to one side and looking perfectly unkempt- after _Hank_ had been the one to do that to him.

Good Lord- Hank had to cut the thought short, feeling rather hot now.

Nines’ cool eyes looking down at him weren’t quite enough to douse the flame in his chest, but their piercing color was still the perfect picture of serenity anytime they were turned on him like this- full of love and wonder. They couldn’t cool him, but they did comfort him.

“Still worried?” Nines mumbled.

And Hank felt guilty, because, yes.

Even with Nines on top of him, shushing him and rubbing their dicks together, Hank was still worried about Connor.

Honesty from here on was the best policy, especially if they were going somewhere with Connor caught up in all this.

“Yeah.” Hank wet his lips. He was devoid of a proper apology for it.

Nines didn’t look the least bit unnerved, though, and smiled- a soft, thoughtful thing.

His hand moved from Hank’s flushed cock to brace himself on his thick chest.

“Well, I’ve got an idea on how to make your worries go away. But, it’s a bit unorthodox.”

“Really?” Hank said, totally unimpressed. When wasn’t his suggestions unorthodox? He’d had two terrible teachers after all- one him, the other Gavin.

Nines leaned in to press a kiss to Hank’s jaw. His lips were impeccably smooth, a precious subtle pink, and acted like heat seekers, finding Hank’s pulse points every time he went rooting for warm blood. The shark.

He moved lower and sucked the sensitive skin on Hank’s throat, the barest hint of teeth scraping along, threatening to nip at it.

“Yes, it is quite distasteful. Even by your standards.”

“Hmm. Is it...sex, perhaps?”

Hank’s cynical tone failed to rouse any irritation in his partner, as Nines kept on sucking. Hank was going to have marks tomorrow, marks a popped collar couldn’t cover, but fuck it.

“Sure. But, it’s a bit more kinky than that.” The android, crafted like Adonis of Man, with sharp lines and perfect symmetry, purred against the bruised flesh of Hank’s poor throat.

“Blunt as ever. Let’s here it, Darlin’.”

“Let me show you, instead, _Honey_.”

Nines pulled back up and pushed Hank into the mattress, earning a little grunt from the man at being handled so roughly.

Well, he’d asked for it, even if Nines had encouraged him to.

Hank’s last thought before Nines shuffles them out of their underwear is of Connor, cuddled up in bed- he imagined- and probably drowning in the absolute chaos that tonight had been. It felt a little unfair that Hank could just throw all his worries away in Nines’ warmth, when Connor hadn’t even gotten a proper send off- which was that he should never have felt like he had to leave in the first place.

In a perfect world, they’d all be on Hank’s couch right now, talking this out.

He couldn’t change that now, but that wasn’t to say anything about tomorrow.

//////://////://::::

Connor was _very_ inclined to act on Nines’ request.

He’d only been completely supportive of Connor during their awkward confessions, showing him comfort with the intricate touches of his hand, taking the considerable amount of time to relieve Connor’s tension however he could and keep him relaxed.

Connor was _flying_.

His stomach was turning up, knotting, and turning out.

His head was swimming, blood rushing through his wires, filling his cheeks and burning his ears, as his pump overheated and streamed warm blood through him from head to toe.

He was so _alive_.

He couldn’t help wanting to indulge Nines ‘request’- wanting to be ‘good’.

Connor couldn’t even wait to get home before he was hiking up his sweater and brushing his fingertips over his lap in the cab. Any decency he had was shamefully thrown out the automatic window.

A sudden burst in his belly like fireworks made him wiggle in seat, overcome with the realization that Nines and Hank _liked_ him.

_**They liked him back**._

He had a long way to go to prove himself worthy of a place between them, but just for this moment, Connor let himself drift in a warm, green sea of solace and calm, up to his neck, lounging against the waves. He was content, floating, sinking, awash with euphoria.

He’d never get another chance like this again, he was going to _earn_ his place here. He was going to do anything he needed to to secure their faith in him. They’d only been perfectly patient and kind with him.

When Connor makes it to his apartment, he literally rushes inside, a single goal in mind.

 _Obey_.

He needs to rest- he promised Nines he would.

Straight to bed and no funny business.

Connor gets such a thrill, such a pleasant, warm weight in his gut when he crawls into his bed, fully clad in his blazer and button down, only stopping to kick off his shoes, and settles in.

It’s just like Nines had said: he’s gone straight to bed to get some rest.

He’ll inform Nines of his success tomorrow- he’ll show him how dedicated he is to making this work.

/:Alarm set for: 06:00.00//

Connor snuggles into his comforter belly down- pillow long since rendered unusable- and thinks for the first time, guilt free, about the couple in their own bed, maybe thinking about him, too.

/: Initiate Stasis//  
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	7. Meeting in the Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Note: It’s been so long since I updated, I’m going to warn you guys my writing might have/probably changed. I don’t know. So if it feels janky, that was not my intent.
> 
> A bunch of these italics got fucked up, AGAIN. Again...
> 
> Last chapter before Connor gets what he deserves.

//Stasis Incomplete//

Connor’s eyes slowly opened in the dim room of his apartment, exactly how he had fallen asleep the night before. He checks his internal clock to see when he’d disabled stasis mode.

05:32.41

He’d had ample time to rest, just as Nines had ‘requested’ of him.

Now, there was just enough time left to settle some personal issues he‘d gone to bed with.

Connor took a moment to check that everything was fully operational, and his processing power was running at full speed.

His systems were running more than just adequately- Connor felt like he was at his prime, despite his irregular use of thirium lately. It’d been a long time since he felt like this.

Then the events of only hours prior came flooding back- thinking about being caught between his partner and his successor. Holding him and confessing their feelings to him. The most powerful revelation of Connor’s short life. It left him with a near unbearable need to act on it.

Thank Ra9 he hadn’t- hopping up and cornering Hank for a kiss or Nines for an interface without the firewall would have been a terrible idea...

He’d done well enough to shut his sensors down and get out of there before he did something stupid.

He was alone now, though.

Connor sat up in bed, a strange sense of restfulness seeping into his wary joints when he realized this was the first time he’d ever woken up in this bed since Hank and Nines had started dating without a crushing, shameful guilt in his chest for having thoughts of them the night before.

He was allowed to have these, now.

They’d shown they were more than agreeable to a little physical touch, it wasn’t a stretch to think some sweet yearning on Connor’s part would be acceptable, too.

Nines had said it was alright, and Nines was the one who had the ultimate say so.

Well... mostly.

In his haste, he’d almost forgotten about Hank. Connor considered how disrespectful it might be to him. Hank was a bit unsure about the state of things when Connor’d left last night. He could see it plain as anything.

But Connor was only human and thinking about his perfect dream men holding him so carefully and easing his worries away was only natural.

Connor considered how long he’d spent scared in the shadows. It seemed unthinkable that after everything he’d put himself through that he’d end up with something well beyond the best case scenario. He would of never dreamt that his purest affections could be returned- it sounded more delusional then the violent fantasies he’d made out of Nines.

Just to be sure, Connor carefully replayed the memories over in his head, craving confidence that they’d all really happened.

Romantically .

Connor felt heady.

Romance meant more touching and more sweet words- more meaningful looks. A place for Connor on Hank’s couch, crammed between two gorgeous men with fair colored eyes and a few inches on him.

Expressing their concern for him and his happiness.

Connor jolted, looking down when he realized he’d been absently tracing the swell in his lap as he let his mind wander.

He wasn’t out of the brush, yet. This was still... questionable.

Connor snagged his lower lip between his teeth, staring at the insistent bulge in his jeans.

He thought he’d be smart enough to put making sense of things his first priority at this point, but here he was.

An intrusive thought poked it’s way into his head before Connor could stop it- Nines holding his hand like he’d been, lowering it where their fingers laced together and slipping Connor’s hard cock between them. Nines helping him stroke it. Stroke it nice and slow, spreading his precum around the head.

Connor mewed. His hands fisting the covers, head tipping back.

He forced himself to focus on how good he wanted to be- the reward for obedience was much larger than a little lapse in judgment now.

Even if he was alone...

It was ok to just take the edge off a bit, wasn’t it?

As of yesterday, Nines was well aware of Connor’s sexual desires pertaining to them- ignoring the disturbing parts of it...

Would Nines be upset if he knew about this? It was the first time Connor’d ever imagined him in such a positive way- a way that was hopeful for the future.

Was he being disrespectful to him? Was he pushing things too far, too fast?

//Connor?//

Connor jumped, hand flying off his zipper.

It would seem Nines had kept an inactive link open with him. Connor hadn’t recalled ever severing it before his departure last night. Partly because of a somewhat conscious decision on his end to keep some proximity between them.

//Connor?//

The smaller android began to make an effort to look presentable, despite Nines not being there to physically see him in such a state. It was the principle of the thing.

Connor pushed the heel of his palm between his legs, shutting out some of the need pulsing down there.

//I’m here, Nines.//

//Hank and I would like to give you a ride to work this morning.//

Connor‘s other hand nearly slipped out from under him. He started frantically looking around the room for things like his pants and a sweater before realizing he was already wearing both.

//That’s very generous of you, Nines, but it’s alright.//

//It wouldn’t be a problem. We can be there shortly.//

Hank and Nines at his door after he was just about to do something unmentionable in their likeness did not sound appealing right now.

Connor floundered. His hair was a mess, shirt untucked, dick fully hard- which Nines messaging him certainly hadn’t helped. It didn’t take much apparently.

Hank might not notice with the time it’d take for them to get there, but there was enough evidence of what he’d been doing that Nines surely would.

//Sorry, I won’t be ready in that time.//

//There’s no rush.//

Connor worried it’d be rude to keep refusing him.

//But, maybe next time.// Nines adds, obviously not wishing to do any pushing himself.

Connor was abundantly thankful to be given an out.

He remembered how considerate and patient Nines had been with him last night. He knew while this thing between them was still fragile and new, Nines wouldn’t want to push him in any way after he’d spent all that evening reassuring him. He’d made that clear.

Cupping his hand and skimming their bare shells together. Feeding him a sense of security to quell the ache in his chest. Making sure Connor was relaxed.

Connor dug the heel of his palm down a little harder in his lap. It’d become necessary.

//Definitely, next time. I’ll be expecting you.// Connor agreed. He was sure his relief was obvious, but Nines gave no indication he was upset that he declined.

//See you at work then.// He says.

There‘s a beat before Nines adds a little something extra for good measure.

//Take care.//

//You, too.// Connor says pleasantly, infinitely glad that ‘flustered’ didn’t translate well over the interface.

He laid back on his spread, that familiar tickle of wings fluttering in his stomach.

‘Take care’.

Connor sighed softly, surely sounding like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t care. No one was here to see him hard and flushed, thinking about Detroit’s PD’s Finest talking sweet nothings to him. Whether he was stretching what qualified as a ‘sweet nothing’ or not, he still didn’t care.

Connor had to weigh his options, having ran out of time to both take care of his ‘unresolved tension’ and get ready on time. He could either handle his little issue, or get up and get dressed like a responsible adult.

Considering he had a habit of failing to do that post deviancy, Connor stole a page out of Hank’s book and said ‘fuck it’, since he’d been misbehaving, anyway.

He shimmied out of his jeans just enough to pull his underwear down and take his cock out. After a night where his wildest dreams had come true, this would be dealt with in record timing.

—— — -

Connor entered the station about the same time as Hank and Nines- Hank had only just taken his seat, evidenced by the fact he was still rolling his sleeves down from removing his coat. Connor approached taking note of Nines leaning against Hank’s desk.

He often lingered, as per his usual morning ritual -only excluding their fight the other day. This time, however, Connor was perfectly  thrilled to have Nines join them.

He couldn’t help the flutter in his chest, the glow spreading through his cheeks and downward.

There they were, his partners- a fleeting thought he would allow himself this once in the privacy of his own thoughts.

To his added delight, Connor noticed that Nines hadn’t gotten Hank his morning coffee yet, meaning it was Connor’s job again.

He walked to his desk, having to physically dull his excitement as both men turned their heads to greet him. Hank’s half smile held so much promise now, while Nines, lips tilted upward in lieu of giving Connor his usual little nod, made his heart swell and almost stop him in his tracks.

They were happy to see him- Hank had always been, but it’d never felt so important that Connor know that until last night when the big man had coddled his slender hand and told him as much.

The android had to draw the line at swooning in public still and made himself return the gentle smiles as he took his seat.

“Good morning.” He said- mentally patting himself on the back for not sounding completely awestruck to be sitting in their presence again in light of everything.

“Hey, Con.” Hank rumbled. It felt like it’d poured right from his chest- the delicate way he said Connor’s pet name.

Connor gave the dopiest looking smile, eyes averting to his hands in his lap.

What a sap he must seem to them.

Nines masked his amusement at the display and pushed himself away from Hank’s desk, coming around to Connor’s.

Connor watched him move with a strange pinch in his gut when he realized Nines intended to find a spot on  his desk, jutting his hip out and resting on top of it- the space unhindered by a dying bonsai tree or old coffee cups.

Connor revisited act Number 5, which was: Do not swoon in public. Nines hadn’t even done anything unusually amazing yet.

Still, it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Hank sat back and admired the view.

“How was your night?” Nines said perfectly cordially, and yet Connor felt like he was being put on the spot.

He wanted to tell Nines how  good he’d been, he wanted him to know how serious Connor was about making this work.

But he bit his tongue, eyes falling to his terminal in a quiet show of submission.

“Oh, it was uneventful.” As it always was.

Only that’s exactly why it was the most  spectacular night of his life in a long,  long  time- he’d done exactly what Nines had asked him to.

Straight to bed, because he was ‘good’.

Connor swallowed.

He could tell Nines later- Connor didn’t trust himself to be as casual about informing him right now. They were still at work with an audience and a sense of professionalism hanging over their heads- and Fowler glaring every now and then from his office.

Nines nods but continues to stare- like he knows Connor wants to say something else. He‘s aware the bigger android has a sharpness about him that detects these Kinda of things quite easily.

But Nines makes it easy on him, having decided the other night that that was exactly the approach he was going to take with Connor moving forward. No more pushing.

“Well, you can tell me all about how ‘uneventful’ it was later. Hank and I are in no rush, tonight.” He says.

They’d be there- talking in low murmurs under dim light and carrying on for as long as Connor wanted them there.

Connor tries not to let the words go to his head, but despite himself, he feels the fluttery wings in his belly again and smiles. A soft thing, coy and unsure.

They’ll be with him tonight, talking to him and sharing more earnest confessions- he hopes.

Hank watches the light in his eyes glimmer a bit brighter noting his enthusiasm, his eagerness. Already Connor is burning with excitement.

Hank pulls his chair in to get a little closer. Drawn to that wonderful light of his. Hank never could resist.

“You know, all things considered, Con, I gotta say you look plum peachy this morning.”

The other looks at him. He can see the same tenderness in Hank’s gaze as was there the night before.

It was tame, yet bursting with an unspoken desire. It served to confirm how badly all parties wanted this.

Connor wondered what was going to happen when there wasn’t work and wandering eyes to keep them all in line. He shuffles in his seat.

Hank is already looking like he wants to get his hands on him again, and in all fairness, Connor wanted to let him.

He turns his attention from Hank to Nines, then to his hands resting in his lap.

“I suppose I am a bit perky this morning, aren’t I?” He mumbles, heat gathering in his stomach panel.

Why did he both hate and love it when they had their eyes on him?

Hank snorts.

“I’ll say. I spent the whole night fussing with Nines here.”

Nines turns his head away, restraining himself from murmuring anything about how it was only after the glorious sex they’d had. Nines had hoped he’d fucked it out of him, but then they all had plenty reason to be on edge still, didn’t they? He couldn’t blame him when Hank rolled out of bed with a somber look on his face.

The smile slipped from Connor’s face the slightest bit.

He hadn’t caused them to have another fight last night, had he?

“Should I stop being so... ‘peachy’?” He asks carefully.

Hank straightens in his chair, leaning forward on his elbows and suddenly looking Connor in the eyes so seriously.

“No, no, of course not. I was just wonderin’ what’s got you lookin so... giddy and... fresh.”

“Radiant.” Nines offers.

Connor wets his lips, lashes downcast. He lifts his hands from his lap and begins wringing them out. Nines watches him, thinking how fitting it was they both seemed to have a tick with their hands when they were nervous.

Connor shrugs, not really sure how to put what he was thinking into words, despite being an ultimate, all-knowing supercomputer.

“...I suppose I’m just excited.”

He knows they’re watching his every move, but he can’t control the color dusting his cheeks. It’s a curse really.

“Excited for the.... the ‘future possibilities’. Of us.”

Connor gives a half-hearted shrug and glances up at Nines and Hank. He can see the bigger android quirk his lips just so.

“Oh?” He tilts his head. His eyes trained on Connor‘s anxious fidgeting.

“Where do  you see this all going exactly?” Nines rarely allowed himself a lapse in judgment- in this case it was talking about this blossoming affair at work.

His words seem to flip a switch in Connor as he turns very serious all at once, shyness pushed aside. He wanted to make it clear he hadn’t meant that like he was assuming anything- they still had  much to discuss, now that their feelings were out in the open.

“Nowhere you don’t want it to, of course.” Connor says painfully honestly, sensing the tick in Hank’s heart rate.

Nines goes quiet, recalling the last conversation they’d had before he sent the android out Hank’s door.

‘Because you want to be good for me, right?’

Connor was so eager to please him- just like Nines had thought.

Every suspicion he’d had thus far had been right, and Nines knew he was right about this one, too. That Connor was every bit as serious about them as he was still afraid to be.

That was an issue that needed addressing.

Hank looked between the two androids, feeling the tension radiating off the smaller. Nines looked unusually hesitant to continue.

Hank recalls how Connor handled their unwavering attention on him last night and decides it wasn’t terribly worse than that- last night had been a storm of emotions. He could handle what they needed to say now, too.

Nines shares a look with Hank who isn’t sure how to read the situation, but gives him a little nod to go on. He hums long and thoughtful, garnering Connor’s attention again.

“I think it’s time we get some things straight before we move forward. I don’t think it should wait until tonight.” He says flatly.

Particularly because Nines wasn’t keen to have Connor go through the rest of his day as shaken and worried as he was yesterday. Never again.

Hank knew what was coming, they’d woke up after a restless night to talk about this. It was a very short conversation, too, as they both knew exactly how they felt on the matter.

He was hoping this part would come up later in the privacy of Connor’s apartment, but he agreed with Nines that it needed addressing.

The issue of commitment.

It wasn’t enough to simply say he had feelings for Connor, Hank knew he had to commit to it.

They all did.

Connor locked anxious eyes with Hank, but found some comfort in the single corner of his lips turning upward. Trying to reassure him as much as he could without reaching out to him.

Nines did a sweep to see who was watching them and decided Gavin’s idle staring wasn’t worth anything.

He was already well aware of their situation.

Nines pocketed his hands and shifted so he could give Connor his full attention. The smaller android had to control his breathing when his fans nearly clammed up.

“As you know,” Nines began. “Hank and I are in a very serious relationship. One we fully intend to see through.”

Nines was speaking for the both of them, of course, but it still made Hank’s stomach twist up to hear him  say it. They’d had a talk- with a lot less talking and a lot more grinding- where they finally said the things they’d always really known were true, but never had the gull to say. Not until Connor came into the picture.

It seemed despite Nines level head and their developing relationship, pushing their limits here wasn’t a line he’d been ready to cross until now. It put into new perspective Hank’s fear of losing Connor to the truth of his feelings- he understood how nerve-racking it was to admit to feelings like these.

They’d managed in the end, they’d made it clear that they wanted this- that they’d always wanted this. Wanted to take their relationship every level it could go.

Nines was even set to move in at the end of the week, when all was said and done.

So with their own relationship out of the way-

“We’ve expressed the fact that we all have feelings for one another. Now it’s crucial we make clear how invested some of us are.”

‘Some of us’ being Connor.

Nines locked eyes with the nervous man, though the promise of something soft lay beneath his gaze. Connor‘s stomach did another flip-flop.

“I don’t like to share myself with people- I don’t like to involve unnecessary variables.” He says a bit curtly.  
“People aren’t reliable.”

Hank scoffed, realizing he could have phrased this better.

“Jesus, Nines. What a pessimist you are. You sound so anti-human.”

“You are, too, Hank. More than you know. The point is,” Nines starts, leaning towards Connor the slightest bit. Connor who’s gone eerily quiet, obviously already overthinking this.

“I don’t want just anybody hanging around in my most private, most vulnerable moments. And I don’t want just anyone involving themselves with what’s mine.”

What was ‘his’ being Hank.

The older man promptly shut his mouth and flushed that pretty pink color the androids had come to love.

Nines tries not to linger on it, Connor was still waiting to hear the magic words. The ones Nines hopes were already quite obvious, but bore ingraining.

“You aren’t just anyone, though, Connor.”

He was anything, but.

The smaller nods, thinking Nines is asking rather than telling him. He’s only eager to prove himself, and Nines knows this. But, he wishes the words would have stuck a bit more. Likely the effect of Connor’s doubt and insecurities getting in the way again.

Nines was going to make it obvious for him.

“If we pursue something in the way of a relationship, the Lieutenant and I aren’t just interested in something like casual sex.”

Connor swallowed, light suddenly yellow.

Hank was finally becoming used to all of Nines’ embarrassing bluntness. The things he says were beginning to affect him much less as the stress of it wore on him.

Connor, however, is ripe with color and nibbling his lip- the mention of sex in connection to their relationship making him practically feel faint.

He realizes Nines is waiting for him to confirm that he understands and nods.

“You understand entering into a relationship with us is strictly inclusive?”

“I do.” Connor stutters- not sure if this means he’s immediately qualified going forward or not.

“You understand this is a matter of serious commitment? No one night stands.”

“I do.” As if Connor could be any more thankful to here that was what they wanted. He could die happy right now, just like this.

Nines softens just a bit, and Connor has a moment to breathe again.

The bigger man casts a look over at Hank before continuing. Hank smiles back.

Nines straightens his shoulders, hiding his nerves behind a stony glare. It doesn’t dilute the sincerity of his next words.

“I think moving forward we should treat this like any normal courtship. We’ll get to know you better, spend time together and involve each other in the others’ interests. We’d like to see this go somewhere. I said we’d pick up tonight where we left off. Is that still alright with you, Connor?”

‘Courtship’... They were going to enter a courtship with him?

Connor sits there dumbfounded.

He couldn’t help thoughts of romantic dates, lying in a bed together, receiving traditional presents- only this time when visions of Hank handing him those flowers he always dreamt of came to mind, he can see Nines over Hank’s shoulder with eyes full of mirth and welcome, approving of Connor’s surprise. No judgement, no apathy.

Connor thinks about the chocolates Nines promised. Of walking Sumo together and making Hank’s dinner, and spending cold nights together on Hank’s couch sharing a blanket.

Connor blinks.

The thought of sharing a title like ‘boyfriend’ or ‘sweetheart’ swarming and overwhelming his senses, loading his processors and clogging his gears.

He could  do that- He could download something on the proper techniques and look into common courtship. He could definitely do this.

He could date them. He would show them just what an intuitive, responsible lover he could be.

Connor would do everything right, he would be the man of their dreams- regardless of how nonexistent his experience in this field was.

“Connor?” Hank asked just as he’d begun downloading a guide on modern dating, bringing Connor back to reality as it started to finally sink in.

“I want that!” He blurts, meaning to come off a bit more composed and superbly missing the mark.

Nines smiles after a moment, sharing an odd look with Hank, who is just as awestruck to hear Connor’s agreeing to this as Connor is Nines proposed it.

Nines had tried to tell Hank he’d have nothing to worry about- that Connor wouldn’t reject their proposal.

He knew they both had a long way to go yet.

“Then it’s official. We’re dating now.” Nines reiterates.

Connor bites his lip and looks out across the bullpen.

They‘re dating now.

He gives Nines a shaky nod, barely aware Hank is chuckling at his expense, and stares at his desk. He’s sure he’s turned blue in record timing, but recovery doesn’t seem possible any time soon.

Maybe he’d never get over this- maybe he’d spend every second of his life thinking about the fact he was on his way to becoming somebody’s boyfriend- two somebodies.

Nines lets Connor sink into a warmth that threatens to burst open his chassis when he feels too full. The news rightfully overwhelms the smaller android, contentment washing over him and a funny feeling licking at his insides. Making him blush.

But to linger any longer might draw attention- Hank’s unproductive enough for the three of them.

“Back to my desk, I suppose.” Nines says coolly, as if he wasn’t just silently basking in Connors utter delight after some radical bit of news.  
“We’ll drive to your place after work. Acceptable?”

Connor gives a single nod, swallowing his heart in his throat.

The prospect of stewing through a whole day of wondering what was to come and wishing it come sooner was almost too much to bear. He’d wasted all of yesterday during his emotional overload as it was.

But Connor  tries to be responsible and take the punches as they come. The responsible adult thing is to focus on his work.

Nines slips off the edge of his desk and leans over to whisper some encouragement at Hank- “We have all night, hm?” - before the bigger man turns his attention to his terminal, a shade darker than he was before.

Connor watches him go, having a moment to himself to finally unpack some of all that. Not that he imagines it’ll seem any less surreal it had actually happened.

He watches Nines, feeling a rush of gratitude. Nines is letting this happen- he’s _making_ this happen. Giving Connor his blessing and moving them along.

The smaller android can’t stop himself from letting the gratitude then mingle with the want, and, before he can think better of it, he’s staring absently at Nines’ upper back and long legs as he walks away. And somewhere in the middle of those things that is perfectly unprofessional.

Connor jerks his attention back to his surroundings, turning to see if Hank’s been watching. Thankfully not, but Connor makes a mental note to _stop_ this awful habit of checking Nines out when it was least appropriate to do so.

He’s not going to make a good suitor if he keeps ogling at him. His excitement is simply getting the better of him.

‘Butterflies’ fill up his stomach as Nines casts a look over his shoulder at Hank, giving him this dazzling smile. And Hank somehow manages not to stare transfixed at it for the next solid hour (while Gavin rolls his eyes at the display from his desk).

Connor thinks if Nines ever smiled at _him_ like that, he surely wouldn’t be able to get anything done for a long time.

His smile was his approval, his consent, his desire.

Connor wets his lips. He _dearly_ wishes to tell him about how _good_ he’d been last night when he went to sleep. Now is definitely not the time, of course.

He just wants to tell him so badly.

He should distract himself- actually, he should do his work. Fowler would have his ass on crowd control if he turned as counterproductive as his partner. Hank alone had earned the right to be.

But Ra9, they’d just entered a _courtship_! If Connor is diligent and honest, he’s going to come out of this with a boyfriend- with two!

His first boyfriend, and he was already looking at having two of them.

That was twice the dates, twice the... Ra9, twice the handholding. Twice the weight index fitting tightly together on Hank’s couch when they all cuddled. Twice the pair of shoes left at the door of his apartment as they all got comfortable- assuming Nines was into comfort. Twice the amount of hands... _on_ him...

Connor felt dizzy.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring at Nines again, until the taller android turned around and _smiled_ back at him.

Connor’s eyes went wide, but just as he was scrambling to find the right apology for having been caught staring, _again_ , Nines’ smile turned to a look of confusion. A rare sight.

Connor tucked his lower lip between his teeth, eyes widening, as he realized to his mortification that Nines had been smiling at _Hank_.

Surprised, the older man shot Connor a look, and he thought he might deactivate on the spot.

He had precision eyesight- he shouldn’t be able to mistake Nines staring at him with it.

Is this what happened when you caught feelings for someone? You forgot how to use your most basic sense and make a fun little game out of humiliating yourself in front of your peers?

Connor was quick to explain himself.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Hank- I- I wasn’t, I thought that-“

Hank stared at him a moment with this knowing grin before outright laughing at him.

“You alright, Con? Somethin’ catch your eye?”

Connor looks desperately over at Nines, cheeks hot, and feels the crushing urge to apologize over the link.

He was moving things _way_ too fast! Sizing him up right in front of the whole bullpen- when had become so audacious?

Even so, Connor puffed up at Hank’s teasing- there would be plenty of time to embarrass himself when they wined and dined him later when there weren’t so many people around.

Now was a good -though obvious- time to excuse himself.

“No, nothing, Lieutenant. I- I was just going to get you a coffee.”

Connor promptly stood, trying to ignore how telling the screaming yellow light on his forehead was, and hurried to the break room- avoiding Nines’ gaze as he went.

He just had to busy himself, he just needed to stay productive. Then he wouldn’t think about how incredibly lovesick he was, and that wouldn’t lead to anymore embarrassing mishaps where his systems failed to perform even basic functions.

He focused on the coffee, reaching for the little stack of mugs Hank and other senior officers had earned the right to clutter the counter with.

He should remember to ask Hank if he had breakfast this morning before work- all things considered, Connor didn’t think Nines would mind him stepping on his feet to do a bit of ‘mothering’, as Hank put it. His health was more important than the urge to hide under a rock.

——-  
Connor considered locking himself in a custodian’s closet for the rest of the morning, but managed to find enough sense left in him to put on a brave face.

As long as he kept his head down and eyes forward, it shouldn’t bite him in the ass.

As Connor had spent the better part of months now pretending Hank and Nines weren’t an item, he realized he had no idea how much time they must spend shooting each other flirty looks across the bullpen. No wonder Gavin figured it out- it’s a miracle the whole DPD haven’t. Maybe they had. Ben was always smiling at the couple.

Would they find out about Connor’s involvement?

His thoughts immediately stray to Nines smiling at him again- although intended for Hank.

Did Connor look that smooth when he shot the Lieutenant a little wink that one time? He used to be so damn cocky once. It made him want to cringe in on himself.

Hank can’t help staring at him when every now and then Connor seems to freeze up for no particular reason.

“You alright, Con?”

“I’m fine, Hank.” Connor says unconvincingly.

Hank doesn’t push after his teasing earlier and lets Connor be.

The android made it a point not to go looking over at Nines for the remainder of shift. He couldn’t, mostly out of the growing need to tell Nines about his feelings from last night.

He wanted Nines to know that while he may make a fool of himself every now and then in their presence, Connor was perfectly capable of being the obedient sort.

He wanted his successor to know- he wanted Hank to know. Sitting here at work trying to keep it all in was torture.

Fowler must be up in his office wondering when one of his star detectives was going to come back down to earth and think about his work for once.

Connor keeps his head down and doesn’t dare make eye contact with anyone, including a snarky Gavinwhen their paths occasionally cross. All he can do is patiently wait out the final minutes until freedom.

It feels impossible with Hank sending him pleased little looks every now and then while Connor tries to ignore them. It’s for everyone’s sake really.

Not much longer.


	8. Taking Liberties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mention of android suicide  
> Heavy Dom/Sub overtones
> 
> FLUFF AND SMUT. So MUCH fluff and smut. Connor is hardcore Baby in this. I’m so sorry

“Connor, can I ask you something?”

Hank has never held back on his account before, but Connor gets the feeling this isn’t going to be too serious. Not when the man’s physically restraining himself from smiling.

Hank pulls his coat on and takes his keys out, while Nines says his goodbyes to Gavin. Something like taunting him and making the shorter man seethe if Connor’s reading their body language correctly.

Connor waits patiently for Hank to collect his bearings before he follows him to the front door- Nines walking Gavin out.

“Of course you can, Lieutenant.” Connor says, even though he’s pretty sure he knows what’s coming.

He knows his partner. Or he _thinks_ he does.

“Do you check out Nines a lot?”

Hank says, not missing a beat.

Connor stops walking. That certainly throws him for a loop- he imagined some more teasing, but nothing so forthright.

He has to check his core temperature and take a moment before answering, while Hank cracks that damned smile finally. That makes it harder for Connor to deliver his usual wit.

How could he answer without willingly throwing himself under the bus? He _had_ done it one other time. But was that enough to be considered ‘often’?

Before last night, he’d never allow himself the pleasure. Not when his idea of Nines was much less forgiving.

Connor makes a vague gesture that doesn’t deter Hank at all. Of course it wouldn’t. He knows how much fun Hank has teasing him- being a bit of the stiff he is. He’s an easy target.

But now Hank’s a bit more curious to hear his feelings on the matter, finding the color in Connor’s face quite telling.

“It’s just, Nines told me about the other day. How you were apparently making eyes at him when he popped his shirt open.” By a single button. Just enough to thoroughly surprise Connor, and get his engines running.

How sad was that?

Connor has to turn away, and Hank’s smile drops a hair.

If this is what it meant to have Hank’s returned affections for him, he doesn’t know if he can handle it.

This kind of question would be too personal for Hank’s taste before they agreed to enter a courtship. Now that that was out of the way, Connor wondered if he was about to see a side of him he never knew existed. One he should have accounted for.

Was he just that comfortable with Connor all of a sudden? Was Connor overlooking past instances in the heat of the moment?

“Don’t fry your brain over it- it’s no big deal.” Hank says, placing a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

It takes the android a minute to adjust to the touch. It was the first touch he’d received from him since last night.

The first time Hank was touching him as a potential lover.

“Con, you look like you’re burning up.” Hank said, brows pinching.

“He likely is.”

Connor jolted when he felt Nines enter his space. A little too close to be friendly- considering Nines wasn’t friendly.

“He’s likely overworking his regulator. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” Hank pulled Connor closer. It didn’t leave much room for imagination for anyone walking by the trio.

“Positive.” Nines said simply, coming around to place a hand on Hank’s back and guide him through the door. Connor on his other side.

He follows them out to Hank’s car in the parking lot, listening as the older man grumbles about the ‘shitty chair’ he had to sit in all day long- making cheap talk with his lover Connor is privileged now to listen in to.

“Do some jumping jacks, then.”

“Wha- that won’t do shit.”

“Neither will complaining.”

“Oh, you smarmy fucker-“

Nines stopped at the passenger side door and turned back to Connor.

“Would you like to sit in the front?”

Connor felt flustered, finding the simple offer coming from Nines quite generous. He _really_ needed to evaluate how he looked at common decency as anything more than that.

Nines took note of it, opening the door for him before he could say otherwise. Connor didn’t make them wait a moment longer and took his seat. Feeling a bit flustered he was getting such attention.

Nines sat in the back, choosing the middle seat to keep tabs on his partners in front once Hank shuffled in.

“Right next to me.” Hank said, giving Connor a little smile.

Connor couldn’t help feeling like he was being given the special treatment here. It made it difficult not to feel a bit more important than he was. They were just being so careful with him- like last night.

Was that what they were doing?

Were they already ‘picking up’ where they left off not 20 feet out the door of the precinct?

Maybe Connor was being too hopeful... but he _liked_ it. The idea of them being sweet on him like they were that night made him feel heavy and light all at once. Like he could sink into the worn seat beneath him.

They left the station without another word and Connor let the comfortable silence calm him, quieting the nerves he’d battled all day.

He watched streetlights go by, still too early for them to light the road. The drive reminded him of when he and Hank were still new in their partnership.

He would listen to Hank blast his music until it was loud enough to hear with the doors shut and windows rolled up. Back then Connor was afraid to annoy him with small talk he hadn’t perfected.

Hank was so patient with him even then- especially then. When deviancy set in and the cockiness Connor used to hold himself with was replaced with a shyness, Hank was always so patient. He let Connor say awkward things and ask dumb questions.

He never mocked him for it, never let Connor get knocked off his feet for long.

This reminded him of those times, times that had never truly gone away. Connor was the only thing that had changed. He’d withdrawn from those precious moments.

He was so sure he could never be in Hank’s life again with Nines in the bigger picture. Now they were taking extensive care to make Connor understand that _he_ was the bigger picture. Their lives together, joining as one was what mattered moving forward.

Nines said very plainly that they were ‘dating now’.

Connor broke out into a little grin, thinking now might be the time to review what he’d downloaded that morning. A guide on courtship.

‘Dynamic Dating For the Modern Man’.   
  


He blinked away a couple pop-ups and shifted in his seat.

The responsible thing to do would be to start from the beginning of the book, but Connor was most interested in a chapter about showing basic, though perhaps ‘outdated’, acts of affection.

All things Connor found himself unfortunately inspired by.

Things like walking through the park together and buying them presents with little more purpose then sentimental value.

Would Hank think cooking for him was romantic? Or pandering?

Would Nines? He didn’t need to absorb thirium through any other means than a bottle. Making blue pancakes must be the lamest idea Connor could up with to earn his infatuation.

He reads a line about how to ‘make a move’ on his partner. An example being slinging an arm over their shoulders while sitting on a couch together.

Connor makes a very audible noise when he recalls that Nines had actually _done_ that to him.

He hadn’t realized he’d been so loud, until the other men expressed their concern, asking if something was wrong.

“N-nothing, sorry.” Connor bit his lip a little too hard and turned his face towards the window. Hank shot Nines a look in the rearview, while Connor silently floundered next to him. Having a little mental battle with himself.

Nines had ‘made a move’ on him before they were even dating.

“You sure you’re ok?” Hank asked reaching across the console. Connor somehow managed not to jump out of his synth skin when that big hand connected with his thigh.

Was this considered ‘making a move’, too?

Connor would of broke out into a cold sweat if he were capable. He had no idea how hopeless he was in regards to this. His ideas of romance had all been muddled, unrealistic things.

Connor suddenly didn’t think he could _do_ this. He couldn’t just put them through his cheesy attempts that were possibly things out of b-movie romcom.

He could only imagine showing up in one of his tailored suits with chocolates for Hank and the big man finding it already way over done when they’d gotten them for Nines.

Realistically, that wasn’t going to happen. But Connor wasn’t thinking realistically- the many perks of deviancy- and panicked a bit.

Maybe he should tell them before it went too far- imagine their horrible surprise when they realized what a novice he was.

He could tell them now, and save them all the trauma of finding out his sexual experience ended with the poor pillow in his desolate bedroom.

“I have a confession.” Connor said so suddenly, Hank almost pulled the car over.

He could feel as his face flared up.

“ _Jesus_. Well, you’ve definitely got our attention.” Hank mused, putting on his turn signal at the end of the street.

Connor didn’t find the silence calming anymore.

Nines‘ eyes were trained on Connor from the back seat, causing the smaller android felt a bit foolish all at once. Not for the first time today.

Now was as good a time as any to tell the truth. He’d already given the driver a terrible fright, and they’d survived... 

Connor glanced over at Hank who had his brows furrowed, waiting for him to continue, and Nines who hadn’t moved an inch.

Connor balled his fists in his sweater, wishing he’d waited the few minutes before they arrived at his apartment before humiliating himself again.

How soon was too soon?

“The truth is,” He swallowed.

”....I’m having to refer my judgement on this matter to... Um.” Connor wet his lips, feeling so cramped in Hank’s car, yet thankful for the added barrier. Hank’s eyes were mostly fixed on the road, and Nines didn’t have the best look at Connor’s blue face at this angle.

“Well, I’m having to refer to a guide...” He said bluntly, glad to have the words out finally. It was painful saying them- who wanted to admit to knowing squat about a bunch of hand holding and kissing?

But it wasn’t his worst confession to date. Perhaps that award went to Nines discovering his nightmarish fantasies about him.

Hank looked Connor’s way, plenty confused now.

“‘The matter’ being this relationship, I’m guessing?”

He could have been a bit more obvious about it, but Connor didn’t have the gall to. What good was honesty if it only ended in half truths?

Nines would say he was being too hard on himself.

“Yes, a guide on relationships.” Connor mumbled.

Connor began to wring his hands together, waiting for one of them to say something about being disappointed in him.

It was quiet for far too long as Connor sat there wondering what was coming.

He’d never heard Nines so quiet before when the perfect opportunity to say something snarky had presented itself. Connor seemed to be strictly off limits from such apparently. He wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or not when sarcasm was such a strong part of Nines’ personality.

Then Hank finally spoke, and it was just terrible.

“Are we your first... _firsts,_ Connor?” He said for lack of a better word. He didn’t know how to put it any less assuming than that, but Connor was already well ahead of him.

“Yes, you’re both my first romantic interests.”

It goes painfully quiet again, and Connor can’t help himself.

“Is that bad?” He asks sheepishly.

Hank seems lost for words, jaw hanging open as he stares distantly through the windshield. He cuts his eyes back at Nines agin before answering.

“What about Mia? Weren’t you two like... I don’t know.”

Connor makes a face, if only because he’d only ever had eyes for Hank first. Mia was a colleague who didn’t mind Connor’s constant blundering when she tried to discuss her hobbies with him. She worked dispatch, he worked a floor up. That was the extent of that relationship.

“No.” Connor says slowly, not wishing to come off curt. He had done a pretty fair job of keeping his feelings to himself all this time after all. It wasn’t until that Valentines card that he had his first slip up with Hank.

It shouldn’t surprise him he flew so far under Hank’s radar for so long- he’d kept everything under lock and key under threat of self-deactivation.

Connor can hardly bare the silence as they pull onto his street.

He chances a look back at Nines and the android stares back. His expression impossible to read, because Connor’s never seen it on him before.

He wants to know so badly if this is a deal breaker of some kind for the couple, but he keeps his mouth shut and eyes forward while Hank parks the car.

Connor’s the first one out, wringing his wrist in a tight circles. He wonders if he should apologize but thinks better of it when Hank graciously changes the subject as he steps out.

“Haven’t been here in a while.”

Nines joins them, reminding Hank to lock his doors.

“Nobody wants this bucket of rust, Ni. Let them take it if they need it that badly.”

Nines cocks his head to the side, another of his eye rolls. Hank ignores it expertly.

“It hasn’t changed much.” Connor warns Hank before leading the way.

Nines hasn’t visited his place before. He might even find the space pleasing.

Dull colors and neutral furnishings. It lacked plenty in the way of comfort for Hank’s sort, but it was adequate for the Rk units.

And to be honest, Connor didn’t worry much about making it homey. Hank’s home was more than enough, regardless of the fact he’d avoided it for so long. If he could be anywhere in the world right now, it’d be there, sitting between Hank and Nines again.

Nines was intent on putting Connor somewhere in his comfort zone, though. Somewhere he could control his environment better.

He followed the smaller android up the stairs to the little catwalk- Hank close behind.

It wasn’t roomy, but android housing often wasn’t. Nines adapted quickly, while Hank had to squeeze himself behind the pair as Connor unlocked his door with a hand scan. It certainly wasn’t anything shoddy.

“Please make yourself at home.” Connor offered, feeling a bit out of place having guests in his abode. It wasn’t the first time, but this was certainly anything but ordinary company.

These were his _new_ potential _boyfriends_.

Connor had to hide his excitement with a turn of his head as he walked into the living room.

Hank stood by the doorway, removing his coat and hanging it on a wall hook next to one of Connor’s blazers. To Connor’s surprise, Nines followed suit. Removing his crisp white jacket and leaving it on a hook.

It shouldn’t be such a shock to see the taller android in such a way. Casual, almost relaxed. Connor just hadn’t imagined he make himself comfortable in his apartment so soon.

Was he going to have a better time courting them than he originally thought? Maybe he should have more faith in himself. Maybe.

“Well, look at that.” Hank said, gesturing to a familiar looking mug sitting on Connor’s coffee table.

The smaller man smiled shyly, feeling a bit exposed they’d seen it. Of course they had- he hadn’t put the thing up before leaving, even knowing guests would be over later.

“You really like it?” Hank hummed, not so much asking as he was stating. It was quite clear Connor liked it- the mug sat idly without a trace of thirium staining the porcelain. It was likely Connor never used the thing. Just ogled at it.

That pulled at Hank’s heartstrings.

“Yes, I’m very fond of my Valentines present.” Connor said to his shoes, struggling to make eye contact with a grinning Hank.

There wasn’t much else in the room- a loveseat that surely wouldn’t fit the three of them, a lamp in the corner, and a bookshelf against a wall that was devoid of any books. In its place was a small kit for Connor’s maintenance when minor touch ups were needed, and a little display for the challenge coin the department had issued him. It was otherwise empty like the rest of the apartment- more or less how Hank remembered it.

“Geez, kid, you should really spruce up the place some more. Doesn’t feel like you.”

Dog patterns and soft blues felt more like him. And maybe some Skyrim shit, the nerd.

Connor could agree. Much of his deviancy was spent yearning for something that felt unreachable, and it seemed to have reflected in his surroundings. Few hobbies interested him, and it didn’t feel as important to express himself when so much of his time was spent bottling his true self up.

Rather than ruining the mood with any of that, Connor simply gestures for them to find a seat on the couch. Meaning with the limited space he’ll be left standing.

Not an issue for Connor, but definitely for Hank’s knees.

Hopefully that won’t bother them.

Only as Nines comes into the living room he chooses to take his spot standing at Connor’s side while Hank gets comfy on the couch.

“There’s room enough for two.” Hank gestures to the other cushion.

Nines takes the opportunity to volunteer Connor.

“It’s your home.” He says as he puts a hand on Connor’s back. The smaller wants to melt into the long fingers splaying over the dip in his spine, but decides he might be moving things a bit too fast.

They had all night, after all. He couldn’t help listening in when Nines had whispered that to Hank. He hadn’t meant to, but he also wasn’t entirely sure Nines hadn’t hoped he would. What with his super hearing.

Hoping to take another opportunity to show him how good he can be, Connor obeys and scrunches up beside Hank. Hank doesn’t seem to mind the nonexistent space there is between them, bumping their knees together as Connor slumps into the cushions.

It was still quite comfy, what with one of the items of his most ardent affections cuddling up to him.

Connor got a funny feeling in his stomach when Hank smiled at him. This handsome man with broad shoulders anda golden heart giving him this soft little look.

With the couple settled, Nines decided he’d waste no time saying what’d been on his mind since the car ride.

First Nines opened himself up a bit more, uncrossing his arms from over his chest. He didn’t want to give off the wrong impression when Connor would likely feel cornered once the question had been asked.

“Connor? You said you were referring to some sort of guide?”

The android turned pale all at once.

He should have expected something like that.

He certainly wasn’t proud of the fact, but he supposed it was a little too much to dismiss so easily after he’d said it. And Nines was rightfully giving him little room to talk around it.

Connor had been bold enough to admit it once, he could do it once more.

“Um, yes. That’s right” He rubbed a hand over his thigh, thankful to have Hank so close. His safe place.

“I downloaded it this morning.”

Nines hummed, holding his gaze with those piercing eyes of his. He couldn’t help how intimidating they often were.

Connor didn’t seem to shy away from them this time, however, and Nines hoped that was to do with the care he’d been taking to reassure the other. If it was finally paying off, Nines expected to see a lot more reward like that in the future.

“What have you learned from it?” He asked, positioning his arms behind his back.

Connor wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d seen plenty in the short time he looked into it on the way here. None of it seemed particularly helpful once he decided _doing_ was going to produce more results than simply reading about it.

But where did one with little experience even start?

“Well,” Connor straightened up. This was as good a place to start as any.

“I read that using pet names are a large part of romantic interactions. So it said.”

Which should be glaringly obvious, but Connor doesn’t expect Hank and Nines to be anything like the average couple.

‘Pet names’ was an interesting subject. Nines recalls the bit of information he’d extracted from Connor about his affinity for being called ‘Pet’. Specifically _Nines_ calling him ‘Pet’.

He also recalled the little whimper it pulled from him in his subdued state when Nines had used it on him.

“And how do you feel about that?” The bigger android prods, quite intent to hear his new partner’s thoughts on it.

Connor stalled out a moment as he really thought about it for the first time. He looked between Hank and Nines, then Hank again. Connor had his fullest attention, keen to known the answer for himself, too, it seemed.

Connor hunched his shoulders under all their attention. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.

Finally, Connor spoke his piece.

“I- I like it.”

He didn’t know what it felt like to be called by one or what it meant to him personally. But he was pretty certain he liked it.

“Do you? You sound unsure.” Hank had to ask. He didn’t want them to get anything wrong- not when he’d just learned that they were Connor’s _firsts_. Every move from here felt crucial.

“Yes.” Connor resisted tacking on an ‘i think’ at the end.

The older man rubbed at his chin then shrugged a shoulder. He shot a look over at Nines who seemed to be reading his thoughts.

“Alright then.” Hank began, adjusting himself to face Connor better.

“What do you want us to call you?”

“I get to choose?”

Was Connor missing something here? Was he that hopeless?

Hank simply shrugged again.

“I mean, yeah. If you want to.”

“Or we could decide for ourselves.” Nines said, coming forward and closer and standing between the two.

Connor sat through the 50th awkward silence of that night, trying to put it all together.

He hadn’t given any thought to something like pet names. He hadn’t thought they’d be important to them.

Perhaps they only thought they were important, because Connor brought it up.

Instead of telling them he was rather indifferent, Connor thought a moment about what they could mean to him.

Hank calling him ‘honey’, for instance, wasn’t... terrible.

Connor imagined it in Hank’s voice, calling him ‘honey’ for the first time. Maybe holding his hand, rubbing his knuckles like he did the other night.

Connor swallowed.

The other men waited patiently for Connor to say something, aware there were going to be many more cases of Connor getting nerves tonight that they’d just have to wait out. They’d already made their peace with that, even though their own relationship was already so far along. Connor would require some perseverance- just like when they first became a item. They needed time to get a feel for one another.

Finally Connor said in a weak voice-

“Maybe, ‘honey’?”

“Honey?” Hank repeated, staring at him with this little smile quirking his lips.  
“You’d like me to call you, Honey?”

“I think so.” Connor said honestly. Hearing it now was very nice, but maybe hearing it without Connor’s prompting would be that much better.

All he could do was wait and find out.

“Ok, Honey it is. What about Nines?”

“I’ll decide.” The taller android interjected . Connor was infinitely thankful he’d stepped in- he couldn’t imagine Nines talking to him in such a way.

He couldn’t imagine Hank for that matter, and he’d _heard_ him call that Traci at Eden Club ‘honey’ before.

“Well, then.” Hank snorted. He leaned further into Connor’s side of the couch, throwing an arm over the back of it without coming too close. Not that Connor would ever complain.

“So now that we got the life or death shit out of the way, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Connor agreed. They had all night to ask him painfully intimate questions until his little pump was ready to burst. He’d signed up for this when he confessed to them.

“So... it’s kinda personal. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“It’s no problem, Hank. You were very candid with me last night when I’m sure it was uncomfortable for you.” Connor smiled.

He wouldn’t forget Hank stepping out of his bubble on Connor’s behalf, just to keep him from a little fretting. More than a little, but it was much easier to trivialize the hysteric events of last night after all the closure and reassurance the bigger men had given him.

“Just tell me to shut up if I cross a line here, ok...” Hank insisted, then cleared his throat.

“Uh, I was just wondering... Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Connor stilled.  


He wasn’t sure he would have ever told Hank if he had bothered with such. Kissing just anyone else didn’t feel right then or now, and if he had, he wouldn’t have been proud enough to tell Hank about it. Maybe his affections had become borderline obsession- Connor wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t let a man he wasn’t yet involved with rule much of his life’s choices for as long as he had. He wasn’t proud of that either. But the past was the past, and Connor had been adamant he save himself for that man he secretly yearned for.

Hank looked ready to backpedal at any moment, but Connor had already decided honesty was the most important part of this moving forward. No matter how painful it’d continue to be.

He didn’t give Hank time to apologize.

“No. I haven’t.”

He couldn’t hide the shame in his voice. It was hard to accept the shortcomings in his romantic life. He exceeded all expectations at his job, his relationship with his work partner was his biggest success, and even that had been shadowed in secret. But ‘love’ was not his forte.

He had to look up a guide for Ra9’s sake- 

“Can I?”

Connor only had a split second to realize what Hank had just said, and then he was instantly thrust from his head space and into the moment.

Hank asked to _kiss_ him.

Connor gaped at him. It was hard to believe he’d heard him right, but then Hank looked so sure. It was all very real.

“You want to kiss me?” He said breathlessly. In that moment his voice didn’t even sound like his own.

Hank thought it was pretty damn funny Connor looked so shocked, considering how long he’d wanted this. And here was Connor looking so taken aback by his request.

To be fair, Hank was surprised he’d had the nerve to ask him.

“Hell, yeah.” He said with more bravery than he really had at the moment.

Then Connor’s cheeks darkened, and the look in his eye changed into something Hank had only ever seen in Nines. Something he only dreamed of seeing in Connor. There was desire there- the desire Nines had tried his damnedest to tell Hank about. But in his doubt, he turned a blind eye. Here it was- this desire written so plainly on Connor’s face.

He _wanted_ it. 

“Please, then~” The android said, narrowly avoiding a whine.

Hank only seemed spurred on by the alluring little way his voice drops down a couple octaves.

Before either can think it through properly, Hank puts his hand on Connor’s shoulder and faces him towards him. It’s a tight fit, but they manage.

Chest to chest, Hank lips only inches from Connor’s.

Connor thinks the earth might have just stopped spinning as he looks up at Hank’s mouth- his new destination. Hank can hear the quiet whir coming from Connor’s chest, his body working on high alert. The android focuses on Hank’s breath on him, close enough to feel it ghost over his lower lip. He could move up and kiss him so easily, but Connor is barely aware of what’s actually happening right now, suffering a serious lag as his pump over extends itself and his processors go haywire.

This is so sudden, and he’s so nervous.

Hank must be, too, considering the way he keeps fluttering his lashes- maybe having second thoughts the longer he stares down at the man. The man that can’t help thinking about crawling into his lap and living there- though, only with the purest intentions. Just wanting to be as close as he can.

But Hank closes his eyes, and Connor follows along, listening to the thump of his heart beating in his chest. The room feels a lot warmer than it actually is- Connor’s core overheating itself again.

Hank reaches up to cup his jawline, stroking over skin that’s dotted with darling little freckles, and easing a noise out of Connor’s throat.

Then something tight loosens in his chest as he feels the first press of Hank’s lips against his.

He catches Connor’s lower lip and gently sucks, forcing Connor to move as he leads. The android thinks he might short circuit as stars gather behind his eyes, and he pushes back into the warm mouth.

Hank lets him, tilting his head to the side. His thumb stroking the spot below Connor’s eye, brushing over his cheekbone back and forth- urging Connor to sink into the kiss.

The android’s light rapidly cycles through colors. His body moving on its own accord- finding Hank’s shoulders and holding on, bumping their chests together.

He doesn’t even think about how inexperienced he is here. Hank _makes_ him forget. Cupping Connor’s face in his hand, trying to deepen the kiss while Connor scrambles to find the right response. Hank just moves him through it, kissing him because he cares so much for him he doesn’t mind how nervous the smaller is, or how it translates into the kiss.

It doesn’t matter.

Hank pulls away, slowly breaking the kiss to catch his breath.

When he opens his eyes, he looks down into Connor’s, practically sparkling as they look up at him.

Hank chuckles, a twist in his chest when he sees the amount of affection Connor holds in his gaze.

He returns Hank’s smile, a timid thing that made him look positively demure.

“So that was your first kiss.” Hank croaked, voice still adjusting.

Connor ducked his head, his smile widening as he nodded ‘yes’. Hank dropped his hand from Connor’s cheek and held one of the trembling ones still resting on his shoulders, bringing it down to his lap.

The LED on the android’s temple glows a deep blue, one Hank hadn’t seen before. It was the slightest change in color, but just noticeable. Connor’s pale skin illuminated around the light. A little blue halo.

Hank could hardly contain his own excitement.

He’d just _kissed Connor_. His partner, his best friend. His new boyfriend.

Remembering where he was, Hank looked up at Nines. The android looked like the cat who’d caught the canary. A single brow arched and a smile on his face.

Hank could hardly believe what he’d just done. He turned his attention back to the beautiful man in his arms, staring hard at where their hands connected, a flutter in his belly.

“I know you don’t have much to compare it to, but how was it?” Hank asked. Looking to boost his ego that much more while the rush was still there. He couldn’t help it.

Connor’s head snapped up, a look in his eye Hank loved to see. This determination.

“I _loved_ it.” He gushed loudly, smile permanently etched onto his face.

Hank laughed.

“Oh, yeah?”

It felt good to kiss him, it felt right. Like he‘d given Connor this little piece of happiness from his own heart.

Connor looked perfectly ecstatic he’d just received his first kiss- as did Nines.

“I want to do it again.” He said suddenly, catching Hank off guard.

“Can I?”  
  
Hank grinned, face turning a shade redder.

“Jesus- fuck, yeah! Of course!”

Connor hadn’t been this open with him in a _long_ time. He’d sorely missed it- this wide eyed curiosity.

Hank didn’t think twice about pushing their lips together again, and the noise Connor made sent a jolt of electricity down his spine.

Slender fingers worked their way into Hank’s shirt and tugged, pulling a rumble from Hank’s chest.

Connor was much more confident this time, his lips parting just so to allow his tongue to make an appearance. It was sloppy and much less organized than a kiss like that demanded, but Hank didn’t care. He let the kid have his way and find his own rhythm.

Unfortunately, he had to pull back much too soon this time when the ability to breath was robbed from him.

“Jesus-“ He sputtered.

“Shit- I’m sorry, Hank!”

All things considered Hank had to laugh. He was still giddy and dizzy off Connor’s enthusiasm.

And the guy was so damn _cute_ \- trying to push Hank as close to him as he possibly could, pry him open.

“Please don’t be.” He laughed, pleasantly surprised Connor had it in him.

Connor might not know what he was doing, and it might be painfully obvious to a point, but his eagerness was more than a little bit sexy. Hank was happy to be at the center of Connor’s attention, grasping at him and kissing him like he appreciated the hell out of the man.

Maybe kissing a bit desperately- but, Connor desperate for _him_ was plenty fine with Hank. It certainly  made it hard to ignore the interest his cock had taken. Hank was pretty desperate, too, despite his earlier reservations.

He wasn’t dumb enough to pass up a precious thing like this now that it was happening.

Connor looked up at Nines, worrying his lip between his teeth as he looked for his approval. It was already there.

Nines actually _smiled_ at him. No humor or mocking for Connor’s efforts. He was possibly even _happy_ for him.

Of course, he was- he’d been so sincere about his affections for Connor. He _was_ happy for him.

“Ni? You want to get in on this?” Hank gestured to the fine piece of ass clutching to his shirt, and Connor wanted to hide in Hank’s chest. His safe place.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to throw himself at Nines just yet- the fact he was lacking so much in this department was more than a bit terrifying when facing off with the ultimate, adaptable super machine. He didn’t need experience in anything.

Nines came perfect in almost every way.

Still, Connor found the courage in him to try and look inviting.

The bigger man approached, waiting to take Hank’s spot. Hank didn’t delay him, leaving Connor there with his face flushed and hair a mess, preparing for the next round.

Nines found his seat. Now Connor was less than a foot away from his successor, torso turned towards Connor, _waiting_ for _his_ turn.

Waiting for Connor to _kiss_ him.

_ Ra9. _

Connor failed to calm his frayed nerves- Nines could easily detect the tick in his heart rate. Wires practically pulsing, pump freezing up. It was all quite obvious under even the dullest eye, but Nines’ were lethal.

Connor’d become a terrible shivering mess in the small time it taken Nines and Hank to switch places.

This thing between them was so fragile. Connor knew how easily he treaded the line between his own doubts and insecurities.

It wasn’t Nines’ fault, of course. He did everything in his power to protect Connor from those thoughts now that he knew of them. He was kind enough to keep him from worrying his day away when he cleared the air on their relationship earlier. He could have waited for tonight. He could have let Connor worry.

But Nines took it upon himself for the good of this new relationship to assure Connor there was nothing to be scared of.

Though it wouldn’t become any easier for a long time, Connor knew being honest was still the best policy. Especially in Nines case. He deserved it.

“Nines... before we go any further I need to tell you something.” Connor swallowed, light flashing yellow.

Nines allowed him some space on the cramped little couch, staring intently, even while Connor had trouble meeting his eyes.

“Is it something you want to say over the link?” He offered graciously.

Connor would love to give in and agree, but-

“No. It needs saying out loud.”

Hank should know, too, as it involved him just as much as Nines.

Hank, feeling significantly more relaxed now that he’d done something he’d wanted to for so long- long enough he worried Connor might never talk to him again if he knew- was still trying to catch up on what’d just happened.

He stood there, trying to think between whatever serious thing was happening now, and the spectacular thing they’d just done. He sobered fairly quick when Connor scrubbed a hand over his face, something he’d picked up from Fowler.

He had the floor again, and Connor wasn’t ready for the attention. He’d spent more time tonight breaking hard news to the other men than just enjoying the evening.

Connor cleared his throat, steeling himself.

“I, um, almost did something this morning.” He started, wringing his hands together as he allowed the words to sink in. Either he was truly being too vague for the impeccable, all-knowing Nines’, or the taller was feigning ignorance.

When he shot a look over at Hank, Connor supposed it was the former. That was better than Nines making him spell it out he supposed.

“I... I had thoughts about you two.”

Nines immediately perked up at that.  
“What kind of thoughts?”

Connor recognized the tone in his voice and quickly began to explain himself. He knew what kind of ‘thoughts’ Nines thought he meant.

“Oh, no! Not _those_ kinds of thoughts. Nothing... violent.” Connor felt bitter with himself even saying the words.

He still felt a terrible shame for thinking of Nines in such a way for so long. Things so terrible and dehumanizing...  None of them deserved to be affected by those awful thoughts anymore.

Nines waited patiently for him to continue, but Connor was finding it quite difficult. Did anyone want to confess having wet dreams to the people they’d had them about? Maybe if they’d been together longer. Though Connor doubted he’d be any less embarrassed at that point. Hank and Nines made him a nervous wreck just looking at them in all their glory.

“They weren’t bad?” Hank reiterated, trying to help Connor explain himself.

The android shook his head.  
“They were bad, but not like _that_. I thought about... to be frank, I- I thought about... um.”

Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath to try and cool his fans, blue staining his cheeks.

“I know I didn’t have any right to... but I touched myself while I was.... thinking about you.”

Forcing the words out didn’t make him feel any better. Being honest this far had earned him a first kiss, but this went well over the line of what was acceptable. He’d understand if they wanted to put a pin in things until they’d discussed this privately first. Without Connor’s delinquent fantasies in the room.

It went painfully quiet all at once. Their eyes watching his every movement in the stifling silence was nearly unbearable to sit through, so Connor focused on his hands and wringing them together ‘til the nanofluid was thin. Thinking about 5 minutes ago when he was kissing his essentially life long crush on the lips and wishing dearly to go back to that.

Somehow, he found the strength to continue. They should know the whole truth, if any of it.

“When it didn’t feel right ‘doing it’ to Hank, um... I thought about you.” He said to Nines.

”I thought you might be more accepting of it. Since you already knew some of my thoughts... But, I didn’t get very far.”

Because Nines had come in over the link. Connor doesn’t say so, he’s not sure he would have been strong enough to be good for them otherwise. He knew the last bit was a cheap attempt to win some points back, anyway.

Connor wants to ask if they‘re mad, if they thought less of him for this. He wouldn’t blame them, but if all their attention to him the other night had done anything, it’d made him hopeful.

Hopeful they would like him anyway, even when he let his emotions dilute his judgement.

“Connor,” Nines said in a tone so soft, Connor almost didn’t recognize who it was coming from.

But sure enough, there was Nines with the tiniest smile gracing his lips, looking at Connor with such sincerity.

And Connor wondered if he’d just stepped into an alternate dimension.

“Connor- You’re so good.”

The smaller man jerked away. He stared at Nines, struggling to analyze his body language while he was thrown so far off his guard. Nines mouth set in a firm line, steely gaze fixed on Connor. Unwavering. Boring into him. He couldn’t read him, or where that had came from.

“Nines?” Connor squeaked, feeling a different kind of heat settle in his stomach.

The other came closer and closer until he was almost pressing Connor down into the sofa. His hand on Connor’s shoulder, pushing him back. He could easily move to position himself between Connor’s legs, push him farther into the couch, but thank Ra9 he refrained.

Connor was barely holding on by a thread.

“I’ve thought about you, too.” His glassy voice rang out, filling Connor’s head and making him tense up.

At their side, Hank made a noise, clearly alarmed by how fast Nines had progressed things. He always was the agitator, but he thought Connor might be spared his wrath this early. Hank was used to seeing Nines battle for control in the bedroom.

It was too soon for that here. Wasn’t it?

“Ni?” Hank urged, trying to get a read on how far he was willing to take this.

“Last night Hank and I fucked- _hard_.” Nines whispered loud enough the older man could hear it. Apparently willing to go _very_ far.

Connor didn’t dare move beneath him, pinned in place.

  
Excitement gripping him, drawing him in to every single word. His pulse picked up as his systems stuttered out- causing Connor to blink away pop up after pop up.

“We thought about _you_.” Nines hummed. “Did you know that’s what kept us up all night? Trying to blow off some steam when our little pet wasn’t there?”

“Nines-“ Connor choked out. His pump was going a mile a minute, nails digging into where his hands had found his chest.

“Are you uncomfortable, Connor?” He cocked his head to the side.

The smaller blinked, frantically searching his brain while he tried to make sense of the impossible situation he’d found himself in.

“N-no-“

“Then may I kiss you?”

“Nines-“ Was all he could say.

A pitiful attempt to convey how much he _very_ much wanted whatever this was exactly without the processing speed left to do so.

Nines reached up and slotted Connor’s jaw between his thumb and finger- the other‘s resting agaisnt his pulse point.

A rather delicate way of showing Connor that he was now in control of the situation. As if Connor would ever contest that no matter what the circumstance be.

“Jesus, Ni, you’re going to scare him.” Hank said sounding rather strained. His own arousal leaving him conflicted.

Nines glanced up at him while Connor laid perfectly still underneath his hand, heart racing. There was no hiding his physical excitement from the bigger android.

Fear, confusion, intrigue, worry, more confusion.  


Connor lay prone for him, waiting patiently for whatever Nines intended to do.

“Am I scaring you, Connor?” Nines asked gently, trying to coax the truth from him. A tactic he’d rather leave to his predecessor. Puppy eyes and playing it safe were his specialty.

But Nines was only perfectly honest. He was being careful with Connor, in spite of the hand resting against his throat. That had nothing to do with it, in fact.

Which only baffled Connor more about what exactly he was feeling.

He swallowed, throat moving under Nines’ hand.  This wasn’t anything like the fantasies he’d conjured. Nines holding him by such a delicate part of him, asking if he was ok, if he felt safe. Looking down at him with this tender look in his eye.

Connor couldn’t get out what he wanted to say- he didn’t know what the correct answer was.

Asking Nines what he was going to do with him was at the forefront of his mind. That fear always there, always nagging at him.

But a larger part of him wanted _more_. More heated words trying to rile him up. A soothing touch against the thirium pulsing in his throat.

He dove deep down into a place he’d gone many times before. A place in him that was driven by something more instinctual, more emotional, and found the answer. One that wasn’t the most logic based, but the most enticing for sure.

Slowly, Connor shook his head as best he could, Nines being careful not to press too hard where his hand wrapped around him.

“No.” Connor finally managed. “You’re not scaring me.”

Definitely not.

Making him hot under the collar, and nearly bursting with an energy he couldn’t define, yes. Extremely yes.

The smaller android shot Hank a look, not sure what he was trying to communicate to him.

Hank seemed to have an idea of some kind. He was feeling something similar.

Hank approached the pair on the loveseat where Connor was being pushed further into the cushions and sank down to their level.

Hank looked them over, and murmured, “Fuck...” when he noticed Connor’s obvious arousal.

It surprised him he hadn’t seen it before, but more than anything, it surprised him how quickly it had happened. Just some nice kissing and a few _very_ bad words on Nines’ end, and Connor was already presenting for them.

Holy shit, he _wanted_ them. _Sexually_. Nines was right...

Hank was still trying to figure out how hot and bothered hearing Connor jerking off to them was- now this was happening? His heart could only take so much.

Nines continued to open Connor up, leaning into him, helping him move into the scene he was setting for them.

“Were you good for me last night? Did you do as I asked?” He asked, and Connor wasn’t entirely sure he could trust himself to answer. For all the time he’d gone stir crazy wanting to get it off his chest, tell Nines that he was as obedient as he hoped for, now it’d become a challenge.

All of his senses were being assaulted at once- Nines touching him, holding him, saying these _things_.

Connor’s chest rose and fell in time with Hank’s. He blinked doe brown eyes at the man above him, pupils simulating dilation- exciting Nines up that much more.

“I did- I- I went straight to sleep.”

“Because you wanted to be good for me?”

“Yes~” Connor whimpered. He didn’t know how he felt being laid out for them, his dirty secrets exposed.

Hank looked like he was struggling to hold on for the ride himself. Connor could only imagine what his partner must think. He’d never seen Connor in such a way. So vulnerable and willing to submit himself.

Was it unbecoming? Did it destroy whatever image his partner had had of him all this time?

Then something passed over the older man, and Hank couldn’t stand another second without getting his hands on Connor in some way. He settled one large palm on his chest, putting a warmth in his shell that traveled down to Connor’s stomach.

“Hank-?” The android whimpered, the unspoken question there if Hank was ok with this? If he’d made peace with whatever Nines and him were doing in this moment.

He couldn’t get that across to him, but thankfully, Hank was operating on a similar thought.

“Are you alright, Connor?” He asked. Needing confirmation that he wasn’t being pushed too far.

After the admission that Connor had tried to jerk off while thinking of them, Nines was quite certain he surely wasn’t- the minx.

Connor was already touching himself to them- Not a day after their confessions the man was lusting after them, stroking his own cock. Because of _them_. Just them.

Connor wanted to be _good_ for _them_.

Nines stroked his other hand a bit too low on the smaller android, over a place that was downright teasing in how close it’d come to somewhere no one had ever touched him before.

Nines steadied himself on the small sofa, moving to position himself between Connor’s spread legs. If there was room for three, he’d have Hank at his side.

Forgetting how to speak for a moment, Connor finally moaned a shaky “Yes~” to Hank’s question that the man took to heart.

With things becoming too much to bear, Connor let the hands caressing him to lull his eyes shut. Nines slid his hand from Connor’s throat to a precariously placed panel on Connor’s model, just above his hip ‘bone’. Both hands now caressing him so close to his prize.

Nines pushed into it, listening for any indication Connor found that spot as pleasurable as Nines did.

It seemed he’d never tested it before, as he let out a surprised little yelp, legs bending at the knee, hugging Nines sides.

“You ok, Honey?” Hank murmured as he looked him over, noting where Nines was tapping his fingers. Tracing over that slender little panel under the hem of his sweater.

Hank instantly knew what the name of the game was- assuming he’d had any doubts when his boyfriend had pushed the other android into the sofa, practically climbing over him.

That panel was a hotspot for Nines, and now the bigger of the two was toying with it. This may have progressed far more quickly than it likely should have, but Hank was anything but disappointed.

“ _Holy_ _shit_.”

Hank watched in awe as Nines teased his fingers over the innocent panel, pushing Connor’s top up to expose that small patch of skin.

“I’m so proud of you.” Nines rumbled, and Connor’s eyes fluttered open.  
“I knew you’d be good.”

“I tried.” Connor’s voice glitched out, but he couldn’t be bothered to worry.

He was overwhelmed, he felt like there was no couch beneath him or hands to hold him down. He was light as a feather, and it was too much to balance it between the weight in his stomach as warmth pooled into it.

Then Nines’ hand trailed even _lower_ , and Connor was cut from any sensible thought he had left in him.

Hank finally found his voice again since realizing what Nines had in store for them.

“You like this?” Hank murmured in Connor’s ear.

Connor was breathing too hard. His airways feeling clogged for some reason and his arms not wanting to seem to work- palms resting on his chest and stomach. Making no attempt to hinder the others’ advances.

“Jesus, look at you.” Hank rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest.

Here was his partner, his friend. The guy he’d sat not three feet away from everyday. The same one that used to sucker him into more time at crime scenes with sappy looks or restless nagging. The one that threw his keys out when he was drunk off his ass.

Just laying here for them now, letting them touch him how they saw fit. Hank was starting to hate much time he’d let go to waste when he could have been joining Nines, giving his partner all this attention.

Hank _liked_ giving Connor this kind of affection. He was so eager. He was so willing.

Seeing him thrive underneath it, especially after everything Connor had went though the other night.

Hank turned his attention to Nines when he heard the rustle of fabric and a zipper being pulled.

“Holy shit, Ni-“

“I know- look at what we’re working with here.”

Connor was brave, or stupid, enough to look down at Nines magic fingers pulling Connor’s boxers down and releasing his hard cock.

He couldn’t help the whine that escaped him.  
“F-fuck~”

Nines tsked.  
“You sound like Hank when you curse like that.”

It was quite refreshing coming from Connor.

Hank felt heat in his face as he admired the prize they’d received for escalating things. A flushed cock with a pink head, faint little freckles dotting it in places. And smooth down there like Nines. Just a perfect, wet prick begging for Hank to reach down and touch it.

“Oh, Honey, look at you~” Hank purred, losing himself in the moment.

Nines, however, wasn’t keen to just look apparently, taking Connor’s hard cock between skilled fingers and wrapping it tight. It fit _perfectly_ in his hand.

A hand just like Connor’s- the same lines in his palm, the same length in his fingers.

Connor made a noise he wasn’t proud of as Nines began stroking- something sounding utterly gutted from him.

Those brows pinched together, eyes screwed shut, and Connor’s sweet pink mouth fell open. Another soft moan ripped from his throat.

He tossed his head back into the cushions, arm coming up to circle over the armrest. Needing desperately to be grounded by something.

Hank could hardly stand to watch, and Nines wasn’t too pleased to see him empty handed.

“Kiss him, love?” He ordered more than asked, sending Hank a wicked grin.

Something the bigger man intended to spank out of him later, being so audacious in front of Connor like that. Then again he’d been nothing but audacious- holding their new lover by the throat and saying such terribly dirty things to him. Things Hank had only ever seen play out between the two of them when the android got a bit feisty in the bedroom.

Then Hank looked down at that mouth opened wide and making such precious sounds, and Hank couldn’t handle it.

He leaned over and fitted his mouth over Connor’s. Their teeth clacking together, before Hank urged the ever louder android to take it slow. Kissing him long and hard, promising he wasn’t going anywhere.

But for Connor, ‘control’ seemed impossible at the moment- not while Nines’ hand was jerking him off far too leisurely. Connor’s sanity was tearing to shreds over here.

He found the decency in him not to buck back into it- to be _good_. It forced another pitiful moan from his chest, the restraint burning him.

“Hank~” Connor moaned into his mouth. It was so desperate sounding, Connor nearing his wit’s end. The coil in his belly winding ever tighter.

“That feel good, Sweetheart? You like that?”

“Fuck~ I do! I-“ Connor scratched at the armrest, fighting the need overpowering him to buck his hips into Nines’ hand.

He did- he couldn’t help it- and was met with nothing but encouragement.

“That’s it, so good.” Nines murmured, the first time Connor had ever heard him speak so sweetly. Perhaps pillow talk wasn’t far from his list of specialties after all.

Maybe it was just meant for Connor. He been treated like he was so special tgis whole time.

“Hank, Nines~” Connor didn’t know what he needed to say. Crying in front of them seemed like the most intelligible thing he could manage at this point.

Nines’ other hand left the panel at his hip to brush over the head of his drooling cock. A pearl of cum dripping down the slit, slicking Nines’ grasp the slightest bit.

Connor bucked up again.

“Oh, OH~ I- I can’t!”

“Can’t what?” Hank murmured, pushing his lips beneath Connor’s jaw. Kissing it gently, trying to relax the overheated deviant into Nines’ hands.

Hank decided his own might help move things along.

“What can’t you do?” He urged Connor to open up as he slipped a hand down Connor’s taut stomach ‘muscles’ and stroked the panel Nines had abandoned.

Connor held Hank close in a death grip, fist balled into the fabric of his shirt. Hank had no intentions of pulling away, no matter how twisted his position had become. He was there to stay.

“Are you close?” He offered when Connor had lost the ability to speak again. It was all beat out of him- forming a sentence was beyond his capabilities anymore.

He shook his head ‘yes’, and moaned louder- loud enough to surely worry the neighbors.

Nines quickened his pace, stroking Connor from root to tip. Basking in Hank’s breathy little moans as he absently rubbed his own cock into the loveseat.

Nines saw his opportunity and took it.

“Then cum, _baby_.” He _purred_ at Connor, and the other was absolutely helpless to resist him.

With a cry, he messed Nines’ shirt with a thick spurt of cum, coming out in strings over Connor’s lap and Nines’ hand. The android milked him through it, thumb edging his swollen head, smearing lovely white cum around it.

Connor shivered, seeking a kiss from Hank and receiving one without hesitation as he was worked through his orgasm. It was lazy, all the tension easing out of him and pouring into the kiss.

Connor hardly noticed when he’d stopped ruining the loveseat with cum, or when Nines had left to retrieve a towel from the bathroom closet.

He was only just coherent enough to realize Hank was rutting himself through his own orgasm as he sunk his teeth into Connor’s lower lip. The sound he made would echo in Connor’s dreams for forever. Filed under a folder of ‘Things I Love About Hank’. That rich baritone voice moaning low as he licked into Connor’s mouth, it might take first place.

“I didn’t help.” Connor said weakly as Hank worked himself through it, and the older man looked almost offended .

“Shut the fuck- You were _amazing_ , Connor.”

“I didn’t do anything-“

“No, no, no, no. I don’t wanna hear that shit. You were perfect, Sweetheart. Just perfect.”

Nines returned and started to wipe Connor down, being careful not to be too rough.

“Wha-... what do I do now?”

“Stasis.” Nines said simply. Connor could change later.

The smaller made an attempt to protest, but Nines was quick to shush him.

“Hank and I aren’t going anywhere.”

“Well....What about you?”

Nines knew what he was referring to, and he reasoned Connor also knew about his ability to control that part of himself. What then did that mean for Connor who’d given himself up so easily?

Great things, indeed.

What Nines was more interested in was giving Hank a proper orgasm in Connor’s tiny kitchen for all his excellent work.

“Don’t concern yourself with that right now. Stasis.” Nines repeated.

Connor fluttered his lashes, the idea of stasis after all of that was quite appealing. He turned his face into Hank’s chest and hid there a moment, trying to reconcile with what he’d just done.

Not now- too much to think about with all this sensory overload. Later.

He pulled away and looked Hank in the eye, a pretty tint on both men’s cheeks.

“‘S alright, Con. We’ll be right here.” He promised. (Bending Nines over a counter and showing him exactly what being an impatient gremlin got you.)  
“Just take it easy for now.”

Connor couldn’t shake the guilt he had for leaving the two to their own devices when they’d just rocked his world upside down, and over and out. If he’d of moved them to the bedroom, maybe they could have joined him in... _other_ ways- so long as Nines had been there to push them along.

Without him, he doubtEd very strongly he and Hank would have ended up here this soon.

Ra9 was he thankful for it, though.

“Ok.” Connor mumbled, feeling childish for allowing Nines to zip his pants back up for him.

The last thing he saw was Nines planting a long, passionate kiss on Hank before leading him away. Hopefully to mark some of the few furnishings he had in the house. That would make this empty place much more worthwhile.

Connor stretched out on the little couch as best as he could and let his body go lax.

/: Initiate Stasis//


End file.
